Set the Fire to the Third Bar
by Just Mosie
Summary: By the time you will get this letter, I will be far away from you. I cannot tell you were I'm going, because I have absolutely no idea where I plan to head. I just want to say I'm sorry for causing you so much pain." *Possible Jello Forever Entry
1. Part One

**Disclaimer: I do not own the song or the show.**

**Set the Fire to the Third Bar**

The soft, persistent, steady beeping woke her, slowly beckoning her back to their world. She shifted, hands clawing slightly at the uncomfortable blanket resting on her body. Slowly her eyes opened, blurry, painful. They blinked, adjusting to the light hitting her face. A pounding headache instantly forming, pulsating beneath her skull. She turned her head to the side, in vain hopes to block out the bright lights illuminating from the ceiling. Moaning, she squeezed her eyes shut, allowing her forehead to wrinkle.

What had happened?

Shifting once more in her bed, she forced her eyes open. She was in a hospital, nurses and doctors steadily walking past her room, she heard their footsteps, echoing around her.

Then it happened.

Soon she felt as if her entire body was burning, the sensation slowly eating away at her. She curled her hands into fists, nails scratching at the flesh of her palms. She wanted to bite her lip, to keep her from screaming out in pain. It was slowly spreading across her body. Her heart monitor started beeping frantically as she fought the urge to turn hysterical.

A doctor clad in a white coat rushed in, stethoscope resting around his shoulders, glasses resting at the tip of his nose. He moved around towards her bed, leaning down and placing his hand on her shoulder, "You need to calm down," she eyed him, tears forming and slipping down the side of her face.

The pain was becoming so frequent, slowly succumbing her. She watched the doctor reach into his pocket and pull out a syringe with his free hand…then he maneuvered around her, injecting the contents into her IV.

"Just a sedative," he placed a cap back on the syringe, rotating it between two fingers, "I'm sorry, I cannot up your morphine levels," her hands still continued to clench painfully as she grit her teeth together.

Then slowly, she felt blackness coming around her as her lids slowly began to close. Her breathing became more laboured as she fought sleep. Her head rested heavily against the pillow, body finally relaxing, and heart returning to its normal rhythm. She then let it all go, allowing herself to fall asleep.

_She slammed the door shut on the Chevrolet Suburban, the bouncing off the neighbouring houses placed intentionally around the cul-de-sac She pulled her gun from its holster, holding it down at her hip. She walked around the SUV slowly, crouched low to the ground. Looking over the hood, she spotted Cho, waiting for her signal. _

_With a simple tilt of her head, he lurched forward, she followed. The feeling of her badge held in place by a chain slap against her Kevlar covered chest made the blood rush through her veins, giving her the right dosage of adrenaline she would need. _

_This was another Red John case._

_This past week had been hell, Jane constantly walking around with that crazed look whenever Red John were to be brought up. He would refuse sleep, refuse to eat. Every time Van Pelt would even attempt to speak to him, such as asking if he was 'Ok' he would refuse to say anything to her. This finally spited Lisbon, telling him to leave the building. Pushing him off the case._

_He had become livid, lashing out at her, stabbing her deeply in the chest. The empty feeling made itself known as he left the bullpen, mumbling incoherent profanities directed at her. She had felt her eyes burn as she looked away from her team, residing the rest of the afternoon inside her office, blinds down. _

_Then they had a call-an elderly woman called, 'having a feeling that something bad was going to happen' It was probably due to the figures she saw the night before rustling around her house. Lisbon had not wanted to go, but Van Pelt had insisted. _

_So here they were, bursting through the doors of the house, flashlights clicking on, fingers resting squarely on the trigger, ready for a fight. Her and Cho's footsteps softly moving across the wooden floor, their breathing remaining steady and soft as their hearts pounded in their chests. _

_They separated, she signaled for him to try searching through a different room. Cho was hesitant before he nodded, changing the grip on his gun, and heading down the basement. She had watched after him for a few moments before turning softly on her heel, hand wrapping around the door handle. She cringed at the squeaking noise. Shutting her eyes and biting her lip._

_When she opened them, blinking, she pushed the door open, her heart stopping once more at the evident sound moving throughout the house, officially putting whoever they were looking for-assuming they were in the house-on alert. _

_She stepped through the door, blood pounding in her ears. She looked around the dark room, watching the dust particles flutter around the candle lit in the middle of the room. It flickered, danced around, making the light dance across the contours of her face, highlighting her. She lowered her gun slightly, watching the flame, fine eyebrow tipping up. _

_Suddenly the door behind her slammed shut, she whipped around, heart stopping at the menacing laughter that followed. A man, just under five ten, stood behind the shadows, his thinning brown hair hidden under the baseball cap, only poking out underneath subtly. _

"_What a fine pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh, Teresa," she cringed, pulling her gun closer to her and rising it up, fingers resting on the trigger, "Oh, we won't have any of that," he stepped closer, wagging his finger at her, "It's not nice to wave guns around, someone could get hurt," his sickening smile made her feel the sudden need to vomit. _

_She drew her eyebrows closer together, "Don't come any closer," she warned, he didn't listen, "I mean it!" her voice became higher, but stronger. _

_He shook his head, "You won't shoot me, Teresa," she changed her footing slightly, he observed her. It reminded her of someone…_

_Jane._

_But this man before her was not Patrick Jane. Not the pain-in-the-ass consultant that Minelli stuck on her team originally. This man was different, colder, evil. _

_This man was Red John. _

_She felt the need to gulp down the rising bile in her throat; she stepped back, slightly out of fear. He continued to accelerate towards her, his legs now picking up speed until he was resting in front of her. _

"_Why?" she asked softly, "Why won't I shoot you?" she kept her weapon trained on his chest, ready to pull the trigger._

_He smiled, "I hate to lose, Teresa," the hairs all over her body stood up, she soon felt colder, "I will not be taken into custody," he stepped back from her, maneuvering in a very adept manner towards the light. He undid a few buttons on his jacket, pulling it away. _

_She gasped, Red John had a bomb strapped around his body, held their only with duct tape and absolutely ready to blow if she were to shoot him. _

_He simply chuckled at her, letting go of his jacket before rummaging his hands into his pockets and pulling out a golden antique watch. Flipping it open he tapped it, "Oh Teresa, you better act fast," dread filled her entire body as she stepped back, the lower part of her body hitting the table, knocking the table over, the candle with it, "Because this will kill us all."_

"_It doesn't have to end this way," it was her job to negotiate with the most notorious killers, despite the rap sheet they had piled up over the years._

"_No! You don't understand! I will not be taken into custody," his eyes became livid as he moved towards her. Then the corners of his mouth turned up, laughing loudly, not afraid to hide his true identity, "Only 30 seconds Teresa!" he shouted, still laughing like a mad man. _

_She stepped back from him, throwing her head over her shoulder, letting some hair fall from its band holding it in place behind her head, "CHO! GET OUT! NOW!" she shouted, turning back towards Red John, watching his face continue to contort with laughter as he pulled out his deadly knife that has inflicted so much pain upon victims, families, and friends._

_She watched him roll up his sleeves, slitting along his forearm. As she turned, gripping the door, she just saw him dipping his fingers around in his blood, humming to Bach creepily as he pained a bloody smilie face on the wall. His trademark-to die along with him. _

_Lisbon had slammed the door behind her, bolting forward, running as she had done in high school as a 100-meter runner. She ran down the corridors, suddenly hearing the bomb deploy. The sound of the room being destroyed along with the menacing laughter made her blood turn colder. Soon she felt heat, turning her head slightly, she saw flames coming her way, rushing towards her. The house groaned as it began to engulf around her. She stopped, covering her mouth with her jacket-clad arm, squinting in front of her. She was surrounded by flames. _

_Then she heard a hissing sound. Quickly jerking her head over to the side, her heart plummeted to the very bottom of her body as she watched flames dance around the water heater before her. She then bolted forward, covering her eyes as she attempted to leap over the flames before her. _

_Heat was the last thing she felt as it surrounded her completely, she cried out, screamed in fear knowing this was how she was going to die. She heard everything come apart around her, glass shattering around her, embedding itself into her body. Wood splintering all around her, doing the same as the glass had done._

_Screaming was all she felt like she could do as she let her body slowly become frailer as she felt herself slowly slip away. _

_Then she felt herself become lighter-like she was being lifted up. Pain still moved through her body, she silently screamed, as every noise still remained deafening. Was she in hell? What all had she done wrong in her life?_

_Something was forcefully prodding her, as if they were trying to put out flames, "Please live," the soft harmonic voice filled her ears. She opened her eyes, seeing nothing. Soon her hearing soon began to fade as she heard his last, gargled words as she felt her heart push out one last beat._

"_Live…"_

Her eyes opened once more, looking around at her surroundings. She was in a different room-one more private. Breathing in, she slowly began to sit up, cringing slightly at the pain moving through her ribs and right arm. Blinking, she saw small, black dots clouding her vision. Shutting her lids and shaking her head she opened them again, they had become bigger than slowly dissolved into something much smaller.

Much more aggravating.

Her arm was also casted.

"You're awake," she heard a haggard voice come from the other side of the room. Turning her head slightly, she felt relieved to see Van Pelt, now standing beside a chair and walking towards her, "After the doctor gave you the sedative, he made a decision to put you under in a chemically induced coma for a few days," she paused, "Giving your body more of a chance to heal."

Lisbon reached up with her hand, feeling around her hairline. She relieved at the hair there at the moment…but she had no relief at the hard plastic heart monitor tapping against her skull.

"The nurse washed your hair last night," Van Pelt smiled, fiddling with her two hands, "I helped," Lisbon watched the younger woman bite at her lower lip.

"Thank you," speaking made her throat feel very hoarse-very dry. She felt as if she had tried to consume a vast amount of sandpaper. Slowly moving her tongue around in her mouth, she looked up at her rookie, "Grace, could you get me some water?"

Van Pelt nodded, "Sure boss," she turned out of the room, picking up the pitcher on her way out. Lisbon focused her vision on the wall in front of her. She wanted to move around, the sudden need became very apparent to her.

Then her rookie came back, smiling slightly, and holding the pink plastic pitcher and a fresh bag of ice, "Here you go boss," she placed both on the swinging table, then picking up the cup and pouring the ice water inside. She handed it to her boss, who extended a shaky hand outwards and wrapping her fingers around it.

Lisbon took a long gulp, savouring the cold liquid soothe her burning throat, "Thank you," she threw her head back slightly, wincing at the pain it brought, "Could I have a mirror?" Van Pelt nodded frantically before turning around and picking up her purse.

She quickly rummaged through it, pulling out her compact. She handed it over to Lisbon, who opened it and surveyed her appearance. Surprisingly she wasn't as bad as she had originally thought and felt. She had bruises covering her face, cuts, mostly small, trailing from her forehead to her neck, most likely below her itchy hospital gown. 

"You look good, boss," her eyes moved upwards at the sound of Rigsby's voice. She smiled slightly, trying to ignore the pain it brought.

"Thank you, Rigsby," she felt gratitude build up in her heart, she needed to know that she looked 'good' at the moment. Probably better compared to what she had looked like when she was first admitted, "Where's Cho?"

"He's filling out some paperwork back at the office," the red-head answered quickly, "Guy hasn't had a break lately."

Lisbon took another sip from her drink, she was about to open her mouth to say something…more like ask…before Rigsby stopped her with his words, "Jane told me to give this to you," he reached into the back pocket of his slacks and pulled out a white envelope.

She stared at the white object then moved extended her good arm out towards him. He handed it to her before he looked back at the apple of his eye, Grace. He placed his hand on her lower back and slowly ushered her out of the room.

It had not been sealed; she assumed that Jane had known that her arm was broken. Softly pulling out the letter, she carefully unfolded the paper. Quickly gazing over its contents before actually reading it, she noticed it was written in black ink, some ink blotches indicating that he had left the point linger in one spot for too long….and a few tear drops-indicating that he had begun to cry.

"_Dear Teresa,_

_I'm sorry I cannot be with you when you wake up. I could not stay in Sacramento much longer, the thoughts of it being my fault that you lay there in pain overwhelmed me. I decided to follow what I thought would be truly best. I'm leaving for a while; I promise that I will try to come back soon. _

_By the time you will get this letter, I will be far away from you. I cannot tell you were I'm going, because I have absolutely no idea where I plan to head. I just want to say I'm sorry for causing you so much pain, both emotionally and physically and I wish for you to please forgive me. _

There was an ink blotch, lingering in the middle of the paper, causing her eyes to draw to the next sentence.

_I want you to know that I love you very much._

_Patrick._

She felt warm tears form in her eyes, soon they began to trickle down her cheeks, resting at the corners of her mouth. Some slipped down her chin, falling down on her chest and the white sheets of the hospital bed. She hugged the letter close to her body with her good arm, sobbing silently, feeling the guilt that had caused him to leave.

Two months later, she found herself walking down to her mailbox from her apartment. She kept her hands in her pockets, eyes trained before her almost robotically. She found herself in front of the box, reaching out of her pocket, and shaking some dryer lint from her hands, smiling at the normal gesture, she opened her box with the key.

Slowly she pulled out the bundle of mail, softly flipping through it, she noticed it was the usual-bills and birthday cards. Shaking her head slightly, she turned away and headed back up to her apartment. As she walked up, she kept her hand firmly on the railing, keeping herself steady as she continued to read what was addressed to her.

Once she entered her apartment, she threw her keys onto her dinner table, not really caring that they ended skidding over the edge. She plopped down the envelopes, deciding to open them later. That is, until a small postcard flittered to her feet. Furrowing her brow, she bent over, picking it up with her left hand, and looking at the front.

She saw a picture of the White House. She smiled slightly, maybe her brother, Aaron had decided to send her a postcard instead of the traditional birthday card. He would always think of unoriginal things like that to put a smile onto her face.

When she flipped it over, she grazed over the words-it wasn't Aaron's handwriting.

It was Jane's.

_Teresa-_

_I'm sure you're wondering why I didn't begin the letter with the traditional 'Dear Teresa' but as you know, I can only fit so much on these miniscule cards. I just wanted to say that I'm all right, and as you know, I'm probably on the east coast._

_I assume you are healing nicely; you wouldn't ever let anything stop you. You are a very strong woman, and I want you to remember that. _

_Love, Patrick_

She leaned against the table, bracing her weight against it. She fingered the edges of the card, biting her lip in the process. Holding it close to her, she moved through the room, pulling out an old text book she had way back when. She carefully placed it on the table, pushing it open and mindlessly flipping through its contents.

Lisbon pulled a chair out and slowly descended into it. She leaned close to the table, running her hand down the thin paper. She placed her finger on California, then trailed the other lightly over towards Washington D.C. She smiled, tears dropping from her eyes. They were so close, yet so far away…

_I find the map and draw a straight line_

_Over rivers, farms, and state lines_

_The distance from A to where'd you B_

_Its only finger lengths that I see. _

**~This is a multi-chapter piece and I hope to get it placed on the Jello-Forever Challenge once more. From now on, everything will be slightly based on the lyrics to the song "Set the Fire to the Third Bar" by Snow Patrol **

**I would love to hear from everyone :]**


	2. Part Two

**Leighanna-Aw thanks my dear cousin!**

**Simonisthecutestmentalist-Thank you so much, I really try hard.**

**Disclaimer: Nope**

**Set the Fire to the Third Bar**

After his first letter, Lisbon had slowly found herself sitting on her recliner, knees brought up close to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees, head resting against the cushion. When it was cold in her apartment, she would wrap a warm blanket around her shoulders-The one that faintly smelled of him from the last time he stayed here.

Well, she actually had the blanket around her all the time. She refused to wash it, knowing that once she would do so, his scent will fade, ultimately leaving her forever in the dark. She would at times cling to it, remembering how that night had unfolded. She still chuckles to herself sometimes, but now, she will cry afterwards.

She will always remember it…

_Lisbon found herself curled up on her recliner, toes wiggling as she softly hummed to the song playing loudly from her IPod. Her fingers coiled around a good book, something she had picked up yesterday on her way home from work. She reached behind her, picking up her tea, and bringing the cooling drink to her lips._

_God it tasted so good._

_As she set it back down, she heard a knock. Slightly fixing her posture, she folded the page down in the book and tugged the earplugs out. The person behind her door knocked once more, whoever it was obviously had wanted to ruin her day-it had gone so well. _

_Bracing herself on the arms, she hoisted herself up, once her feet hit the plush carpet, she made her way across her apartment. She stood on her toes, hands bracing against the door as she closed one eye and looked through the peephole. Blond hair, greenish-blue eyes and a three-piece-suit. That only meant one thing._

_Patrick Jane._

_Settling back down firmly on her feet, she audibly groaned, throwing her head back slightly. Mentally she contemplated a few things, to open the door, or to leave it closed? She was planning on leaving it closed, he would probably stay awhile making some type of 'this is like fishing' crap…but not all fishermen would stay hours on end if nothing bites…would they?_

_She turned away from the door, jogging lightly on her toes back towards her recliner. The oversized jersey bounced and she felt the large sweatpants begin to fall way below her hips, but she didn't care, it was her home and she could dress how she pleased. So she did what she had planned on all along, curling back up, opening her book, plugging the headphones back in, and picking up the tea once more._

_Then he decided he would pick the lock. _

_She had not heard him do so because of the energetic sound of the Spice Girls moving around her head. She had been dancing in her seat, very embarrassingly too she might add. At first, she had not heard the sound of him clearing his throat. She continued to flip through her book before she felt a warm hand wrap around her ankle. _

_Lisbon squeaked-yes, she actually squeaked as well as accidentally kicks him right above his crotch. Yes, she still did knock the air out of his body, making him grip onto her tighter before he almost doubled over. _

"_Jane! What the hell!?"_

"_God Lisbon," he paused, grabbing at his stomach where she had previously kicked him with his spare hand, "If I had known this would have happened, I would have considered waiting outside longer,"_

"_Uh yeah!" she set her book and IPod down and crawled towards him, "You all right?" she heard him wheeze as he now was hunched over slightly, trying to regain his lost breath. She placed her hand on his back, rubbing slightly, "Next time, stay outside."_

_She could have sworn she saw him smile, "Why Lisbon, are you saying you would like me on your doorstep more frequently," yes, he was definitely smiling at her right now. She refused the sudden urge to blush, sadly she didn't quite win._

_The petite brunette shrugged her shoulders, "No," it was actually a quick answer…a slightly incorrect one._

_He stuck his finger out towards her accusingly, "Yes, yes you would!" he was grinning from ear to ear, especially now at her clearly visible discomfort. Right now she was shifting her footing and fumbling with the hem of her oversized jersey, furrowing her brow at the loose strand of string her fingers came into contact with. _

_She looked back up at him, now he was grinning like a true idiot. Scratch that, the man was practically glowing with happiness. In a way, that actually made her feel good. She tucked a strand of dark auburn hair behind her shoulder and tossed her head to the side in an attempt to hide the ever-present blush moving across her cheeks._

"_What do you want Jane?" she repositioned herself, arms now crossing over her chest. She thought about tapping her foot, but then she grew intensely worried that he might offer her a snappy comeback about…who the hell knows. _

_He shrugged, "I was in the neighbourhood…" she raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow up, "Just driving by…" she watched him look around the room, slightly nervously rolling back and forth on his feet. Wait, Patrick Jane was nervous? That was honestly a first for her. _

"_Really," she leaned forward slightly, now her turn to smile at his discomfort, "And why is that?"_

"_Let's watch some TV, shall we?" he reached out, lightly grasping her elbow and turning her body towards her flat screen. He smiled and gestured to it before reaching over her recliner and picking up the remote. She continued to smile at him as he moved through her apartment, attempting to make accommodations. _

_He pulled one of her armchairs to turn and face towards the television before he just plopped down, remote in lap. Without looking, he pressed the power button, letting it warm up and come to life almost immediately. Lisbon eventually sighed in defeat, not wanting to become angry and just turned around and sat back down in her recliner. _

_After flipping through countless-repeated-channels, Lisbon tossed her head over to Jane, "Just pick one!" _

_Jane shrugged, remote still in hand and clicking away, "I would if I could Lisbon, but since you do not have cable I find that very hard."_

_True, but she had all the necessary channels that she needed. It wasn't like she was home all the time, paying for cable seemed so…unthought-of, "C'mon Lisbon, you can't even get this in high definition!" _

_She smiled, picked up her book, and opened it, fully intent on getting back to where she left off. She fiddled lightly with the earplug, rotating it between two fingers before she stuck it back into her ear. She didn't have time to react when she saw a hand reach out and grab the book from her. Lisbon jumped up and turned to face the culprit. Fuming slightly, she extended her hand towards him._

"_Give it back."_

_Her tone wasn't soft; it wasn't loud either, but slightly demanding, "Not until I figure out what we could do…"_

_She changed her footing, whining unconsciously slightly as she moved closer towards him. He put out a hand towards her, raising an eyebrow, "Did you just whine, Agent Lisbon?" he smiled at her and she felt embarrassed once more. What was it with this insufferable man and making her feel this way…in the privacy of her own home no less._

"_Ja-ane," his smile grew larger, something she never knew that could happen, "Give it back!" she found herself reaching for it one last time before he tugged it out of her grasp. She groaned as he moved backwards, hand still holding up the book away from her reach. She moved quickly towards him, arms extended outwards as she reached for it. What he didn't expect was for her to jump and grab hold onto the book. She lost her footing, falling onto his body. The unexpected force causing him to fall backward onto her couch. _

_When Jane opened his eyes, he smiled slightly at the close proximity of Lisbon. Her nose barely was brushing up against his as one hand was braced on his chest, the other on her beloved book. One of his hands obviously held onto the book, the other resting on her hip. Oh, and she was also straddling him too. That was the last thing he didn't expect. _

_Lisbon pulled away, blushing furiously and tucking her hair away. She found herself moving over his body in attempt to get off him. He almost smiled at the sight of how low her pants had become and how the oversized jersey had slowly came up around her body. _

_He almost groaned at the sight of her._

"_Would you like some tea?" her voice was slightly soft and quite shy as she continued to try to 'compose' herself in front of him. He watched her reaction when she realized what all he saw, he felt some remorse for it, but in the end, it actually was all worth it. He couldn't help it…he was a guy. _

"_Oh, I would love some," he watched her turn around, jogging on her toes once more towards her little kitchen. _

_He watched her maneuver almost expertly around her kitchen, slightly fumbling with the teapot, almost dropping it once it was full of water. While the water was boiling, she began pulling out the milk, sugar, and two coffee cups. Sadly she owned no teacups, everything in her world was the clear cups, a beer mug, and numerous coffee cups. They all served one purpose, putting a beverage inside them._

_She prepared his tea, putting the milk in first and then the boiled water. She stuck the tea bag in, moving it around slightly and placing a spoon inside. She then turned to tend to her own tea. Lisbon had not heard Jane come up behind her. When she felt his touched on her lower back, she gasped, jumped more like it, and nearly dropped her cup._

"_I'm sorry," she put her head on her hand, breathing in slightly._

"_Jane, don't do that," he nodded, obviously knowing he had stepped over some fine line._

_Afterwards, the moved over to her living room area. She had curled herself on the recliner once more, he had on her chair. They talked about their day-their most odd cases, and most of all, the possibility of getting cable for her. She would only have it if she did not have to pay for it. _

_When she looked over at the clock and it read just ten after twelve, he had decided that he should leave. Once she had seen what time it was, she had put her foot down, telling him that he should at least stay here on her couch. Ever since her mother had died all those nights ago, she still had a haunting feeling about driving during the night. _

"_Well, be best off leaving now," he set the coffee cup down on a magazine as he reached over the arm of the couch and picked up his jacket, "The tea was really quite lovely, thank you," she just sat there for a few moments, fingering the rim of the cup._

"_I think you should stay here tonight," he looked down at her, slightly questioning her motives, "It's late and you shouldn't have to go out driving…" she paused, not wanting to sound as if she wanted sex or something, "It's late," she just finished, placing her hand on her knee in defeat._

_He smiled at her and nodded his head, "Thank you, Lisbon," he set his jacket back down over the arm._

_She got up, swinging her legs around before she picked up both cups and headed back to the kitchen. He smiled to himself seeing her tug the jersey down, obviously quite self-conscious about it all. When she had come back, she reached over and picked up a hand-woven blanket. It would be warm and itchy but it was truly better than nothing. _

"_I'll get you a pillow," without another word, she left him and scurried up her stairs. He heard her rustling around her bathroom, opening and closing cabinets before he heard her top step creak, telling him that she was coming down. _

_She placed the pillow in a case; it was an average, white case-nothing special. She tossed it at him, quite impressed that he actually caught it, "Here you go."_

_He seemed so too._

_He fluffed the pillow up a bit before placing it down at the end of the couch, as he turned his head around, he just saw her disappear upstairs and head into her bedroom. Smiling slightly to himself, he moved quietly upstairs. He walked just down the hall before he pushed the door open slightly. She wasn't in there, but her bathroom door was closed and the light was on. _

_So he waited._

_He sat at the foot of her bed, twiddling his thumbs together, debating whether or not he should begin to whistle. But that train of thought didn't last long when he heard her enter her bedroom._

"_Jane? What are you doing up here?"_

_He shrugged his shoulders, "I wanted to tell you good night," he smiled softly. She nodded in gratitude._

"_Good night," she told him before he watched her move around him, brushing slightly against him to head towards her bed, "Well, I plan to go to sleep now so…."_

_He just nodded, stuck his hands in his vest pockets, and walked out of her room without a word. He moved down the steps, ignoring the occasional squeak. Once he had gotten back to the 'ground floor' of her second story apartment, he picked up the woven blanket, fingering the itchy material and realizing he was better off without it. He lay down, head on pillow, closed his eyes, and attempted to fall into a deep sleep…_

Lisbon opened her eyes, heart now thudding her chest as she realized she had fallen asleep for a little over an hour. She looked around and pushed the blanket off her shoulders. She half-way jogged over by her door, slipped on a pair of shoes, and picked up her keys off the floor. She opened her door and move through it to only descend quickly down the steps.

Her mailbox was in sight and she had a good feeling about this. Upon arriving in front of the box, she fumbled with the keys, dropping them and mentally cursing herself for her clumsiness before leaning over to pick them up again. She jammed the keys in the hole and turned to the left.

Once she pulled the little metal door open, she reached in a pulled out another assortment of envelopes. She flipped through them all and smiled vibrantly at the very last thing in her hands. A new postcard from Jane.

She smiled on her way back to her apartment, a feeling of happiness entering her veins. It had been a little over eight weeks since his last card and she had been surely yearning for a new one. She wanted an update, to know he was still all right…wherever he was.

Lisbon stood outside her apartment and read it slowly, savouring it.

_Teresa-_

_I hope this will make you smile, I truly do wish for you to be happy. I'm still in the northeast, if you're wondering…its cold here, very cold. I found myself having to buy one of those trench coats that you see in the movies. Made me feel very…Al Capone._

_I want to wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, I do not know when I will be able to write to you yet again. I wish you the best,_

_Love Patrick._

She slowly trailed her fingers over the words, her only link to Patrick Jane. Biting on her bottom lip, she turned the card over and smiled. The card he had chosen was appropriately decorated with snow covered mountains, and then in a Sharpie Marker written 'Merry Christmas Teresa!' in his neat script over the mountain tops.

Pushing herself away from the wall outside her door, she moved around and pushed it open to enter. She set the postcard down on her table and looked at the same textbook she had used previously-still opened to its previous page. Once more realizing that they were so close, yet so far away.

_I touch the place_

_Where I'd find your face_

_My fingers in creases_

_Of distant dark places._

_**I'm already working on the next one and should be finished later tonight, thought I won't update until tomorrow or Thursday. **_

**Please leave a review :]**


	3. Part Three

**Disclaimer-No**

**Set the Fire to the Third Bar**

Lisbon walks into De Vere's Pub without a word, hands digging deep into her pockets in effort to keep them warm. On a rare occasion did it ever reach this cold here in Sacramento, but they sure did have their days…She smiled politely and moved to the side as a drunken man wobbled past her, mumbling something incoherently about needing a taxi. She hated seeing people just wasting their lives away like that.

She stood there and looked around, eyes squinting due to the harsh lighting. Beer bottles clanging together, wine glasses clanking. The average bustle of an after-work crowd made their presence very much known, actively chattering on about their latest stocks, feats, and possible divorce.

"Boss!" her eyes flashed upwards at the sound of Van Pelt's voice. She smiled at the red-head and removed one hand from her jacket to make her way over to the rest of her team on the barstools.

Lisbon reached back into her pocket and pulled out her Blackberry to set it on the table-something she always did just in case he were to ever call her. If she were to leave it in her pocket, there was a high chance it could become muffled or unheard.

Upon arriving by her team, she watched Van Pelt happily speak to Rigsby, she also noted the possible flirtation going on with the two. That was a risky move, anyone could see that and report it, but then again, it was in the happening. Lisbon looked up to smile at the bartender, quickly wiping down a glass until it were to shine.

"I'll take one Budweiser," he nodded at her, setting the glass down on the counter to scurry into the back. Lisbon turned her attention over to Cho, who was downing just a coke and looking subtly at his cell. She remembered Rigsby mentioning he had finally gotten himself a girlfriend. Lisbon was happy for her agent.

She smiled at the bartender as he set down a paper napkin engraved with the pub's logo. He set the bottle down on top of the napkin and brought the opener near the top. With one swift movement of his wrist, the cap was off and a light mist moved from the bottle, swirling up into the air.

"Thank you," Lisbon reached for the beverage as soon as the man moved away. She wrapped her hand around it and brought it to her lips, taking in one large gulp before setting it back down, moving it around slightly on the napkin. She watched the paper absorb the condensation coming off the bottle, the slight wetness leaving a mark on the tiled bar counter, only to immediately evaporate.

She shut her eyes and breathed in through her nose, then out through her mouth. Her lids opened only halfway, she blinked a few times, keeping her lashes covering most of her eyes. Shutting them once more, she brought the bottle back up to her lips and drank it down one last time.

_She chuckled loudly, one finger wrapped tightly around the top of her beer bottle, her little finger wrapped around its opener. In her left hand, she clutched onto the freshly made bowl of popcorn. Jane sat on the ground, wires wrapped around him as he attempted to install the new cable box he had come back with. It was his own damn fault, it was him who decided to buy her the cable-so she thought it would be right for him to hook it up for her-despite his claims about how he cannot operate electronic devices. Of course, she challenged him, deciding to bruise his male ego. _

_Lisbon could have sworn Jane had puffed out his chest a little at her accusation of him being incapable of hooking up the cable. Of course, he could not back down from the challenge once it was brought to him. She had held a couple of packages of cable-easily all adding up to over one hundred dollars. He had mumbled something and snatched them from her hands, opening them quickly and only cutting the webbed flesh between his two fingers. God it hurt him, she had handed him some ointment and a band-aid. _

_So that's where they were now, instructions sprawled out all around him, clothes disheveled, curls rustled. She herself had handed him various cables, telling him what he should do. Men and their stubbornness-once they got an idea in their hard heads they would never let it go until they the day they died, that is, if they never actually had it done in the first place. _

_Finally he had plugged in the last cable, stepping back, almost tripping over various pieces of instructions, he looked at what he had done. It didn't look pretty, but then again, it would work. He smiled to himself and bent over to press the power button. After the TV warmed up, he snatched up the new remote and moved over to her recliner and plopped himself down. _

"_Hey!" her arms sagged slightly with the weight of the cool beverage and the bowl in the other, "That's my seat," she attempted to look serious, but she failed. A genuine smile peaked through. _

"_Nu Uh, I hooked the thing up!" he shook his head in a very naïve manner, moving his hands up from the arms of the chair before setting them back done, "The rule is I get the chair."_

"_It's my chair-I bought it," she set the bowl down on the wooden table beside his arm, "And this is my apartment," she watched him shake his head once more._

"_Nope, your landlord owns this apartment."_

_She threw her free hand down a bit, "Damnit Jane!" he just continued to smile brightly up at her, giving her a look that made her just want to slap him._

_He then lifted a hand and pointed a finger at her, still beaming up at her, "That is not nice, Lisbon!" she could never win with this man, his constant childish tendencies were driving her almost literally up the wall. _

"_I don't care, Jane, now get out!"_

"_Uh, no, I kinda like it here," he braced both arms on either sides of the recliner, bobbing up and down a bit, "Quite comfortable, isn't it?"_

"_I'm serious."_

"_So am I."_

"_Ja-ane!" she threw her head back slightly, overly exaggerating his name, "What will it take?"_

_He leaned forward, "You just whined again…didn't you?" she groaned with frustration, "We could share," he moved over the best that he could and patted beside him, "Will be a little cramped…but you're not that big of a person, so I think there will be plenty of room here," she was silent, just staring at him. He continued to smile the entire time, constantly making the anger bubble up._

_Soon she moved around him, he turned his head around, craning it to see her grasp the top of the chair, "Wait-No…Lisbon!" then she turned it sharply before lifting it upwards. He continued to grasp the arms to the recliner, "Lis-bon!" he raised his voice one last time before he felt himself lose his grip and fall face-flat on the carpeted floor. _

_He heard a rustling noise behind him, sitting up on his knees; he turned and looked over his shoulder at her. She herself was now plopped in her chair, reaching over for the popcorn and smirking at him. She would pay. He tried to hide the devilish glint now present in his eyes, luckily for him; she didn't seem to take notice. Lisbon was apparently too busy patting herself on the back. _

_Slowly he stood to his feet, towering over her. Suddenly the look on her face was complete utter horror-filled with dread, "Jane?" her voice was soft…maybe she was thinking he was going to do the same to her…but no, he wouldn't be that cruel. He ended up turning on her heel and could soon swear he heard let out a relieved breath. He soon fell backwards, a large smile plastered onto his face. _

_The sound of her squeak and the whoosh of air leaving her lungs left him absolutely satisfied. He wiggled slightly, making her squirm underneath him in effort to get more comfortable, "Jane, get off!" _

_He looked over at her and shook his head playfully, a playful smile forming on his face. She leaned into the cushions, arm slowly creeping towards the full bowl of popcorn. Once grasping it, she raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. Then he immediately felt worried. Soon the feeling of hot popcorn being pushed down his dress shirt was felt, making him jump up to his feet and move frantically around before her. She stood up, brushing some popcorn off her lap and shoulders and smiled at him._

"_You asked for it," he picked up a handful and moved towards her, she placed her hands in front of her and shook her head 'no'. He nodded his head, smiling devilishly once more. She tried to move away, but he grasped her elbow and pulled her towards him until she was flush against him._

_Lisbon continued to squirm, trying to get away from him. Then she felt the dirty popcorn being forced down her shirt. She tried to rip her arm from his hold, only bringing her body closer to his. She gasped as she felt one tickle her stomach, giving Jane a 'fantastic' idea. _

_He wrapped one arm around her waist, keeping her in place. His other hand brought up to her abdomen. Complete terror was once more evident in her eyes as she began to shake her head frantically. He soon began to move his fingers, watching her pull away from him, a smile threatening to appear on her features. Her eyes squeezed shut as she threw her head back slightly, still squirming to get away from him._

"_God Jane!" she was laughing now, genuinely. Tears were even beginning to fall down her eyes as her face became contorted and soon turned bright red, "Stop!" she shouted, forgetting that they were indeed-inside an apartment complex. _

_She was trying to keep her hands firmly pressed against her sides, but soon they were now against his chest, pushing him away from her. For a man who surely did not exercise on a regular occasion, he was quite heavy to push off. Opening her eyes slightly, she pushed with most of her strength, sending him backwards and onto the plastic bowl. _

_A loud cracking noise echoed through her apartment, making his mouth form into an 'O' as his eyes grew wide. She clamped her hand over her mouth and fought the laughter. She sat back down, one hand grasping at her sides. _

"_Okay, it wasn't that funny," he shook his head, "C'mon…"_

_She reached over to the little wooden table and took a little sip of her beer, "Your face was priceless," she was once more, fighting laughter, "You should have seen it," he was actually blushing now! First his ears soon became bright red, then his nose, and then finally his cheeks. She nearly choked on the beverage. _

_Lisbon ended up tossing her head back, continuing to hold onto her sides and beer. Her toes curled around the edge of the recliner. Jane suddenly reached over and grabbed her foot, one hand now curling around her ankle and pulling her off the recliner onto him. She shut her eyes quickly grasped onto his shoulders, hard enough to leave a bruise by the next morning. The sudden movement shocked her, a noise of surprise left her lips and the remainder of her drink spilled onto her shirt. The scent of beer hit both of their noses, seemingly igniting the fire. _

_Opening her eyes slightly, she just noticed how close they had become. Both their noses were almost touching, their breaths mingling together. Her heart soon began to beat wildly in her chest almost causing her breath to stop altogether. His blue-green eyes turned from their usual shade to a slightly darker tone, his breathing soon became more ragged. _

"_Jane?" she kept her voice soft, simple. _

_He wrapped one arm around her waist more firmly; she felt the almost possessive tightening immediately, "Shhh," it sounded husky, his eyes now full of lust. She parted her lips slightly, automatically leaning closer to his heated body. He blinked slowly, taking in her appearance. Alluring, simply alluring. _

_He closed the gap between them. To her, it wasn't what she had expected. She expected something full of force and passion; demanding and almost violent from the look he had given her. Instead it was slow, sweet, and yet passionate. _

_The beer bottle fell between her fingers, clattering to the ground. She wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to her. He brushed her hair past her shoulder and lifted her slightly, only to press her against the back of the recliner. _

_Their hands felt, running up and down each other's torsos. Mouths drifted only occasionally to trail down the column of the other's neck. Hands unbuttoned the first few buttons on a shirt. Hands soon grasping the other's wrist and pulling them away._

"_We should stop," Lisbon nodded, not actually wanting to stop. The desire for this man was too great, she was almost drowning in him, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have," he pressed on last lingering kiss to her cheek before he moved away from her. _

_She heard his footsteps move around her apartment, gathering a few of his things. She heard him grab his jacket he flung over a chair when he first came in. Then she heard the creaking door open, then close. _

_She sat there, processing what had just happened. She bent her knee up and placed her elbow on top of it. She rested her chin against her hand. Her gaze drifted around the room, wires and instructions everywhere, popcorn and a broken plastic bowl and not to mention, a beer bottle leaking slightly from the top. _

_Sighing, she pulled herself to her feet and began cleaning._

She had only drunk half that bottle that night. She had not wanted to have to drive home in an inebriated state, ever since her mother died, she was always cautious. She obeyed the state laws when it came to driving, despite the excitement of checking her mail. Once more-it was a regular occurrence. Whenever she would not have something from Jane, it would prove to be a complete disappointment. She would feel her heart almost plummet below her.

She pulled up to her complex in her little Toyota Camry; she parked it in her usual spot before killing the engine. Lisbon continued to grip the steering wheel, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. What if tonight was to be another let down? Truth to be told-this past week had been hell. Sighing to herself, she reached over and grabbed her briefcase, unbuckled her seatbelt, and pushed open the door. She shut it quietly, being courteous to her neighbours.

Lisbon walked towards the mailbox, car keys still present in hand, ready for the opening. Her feet slapped against the asphalt, reminding her of the wet ground beneath her feet. A cool wind rustled her hair, sending a chill up her spine. She changed hands, placing her briefcase in her left hand and her keys in her right. She fumbled with them slightly, finding the right key with the yellow sticker. She jammed it in the hole and turned it to the left.

Looping the keys around her index finger, she reached in and pulled out the mail. Magazines, a TV guide, bills, and probably belated Happy Holidays cards. Shaking her head, she shut the door with her arm, letting it lock immediately. Lisbon then turned and headed back up her apartment. Once more she found herself fumbling between the keys and the mail, to do this smoothly, she placed the briefcase on the ground, using her left hand to open the door. Once inside, she just tossed the mail on the table and decided she would leave it until the morning to sort through.

She slowly ascended up her stairs, feet slowly trudging along with her haggard body. She didn't even bother changing out of her work clothes, as soon as she hit the bed; she quickly fell into a deep dreamless slumber. A much needed one too.

Only a few hours later, Lisbon found herself awakening to a loud rapping on the door. Moaning, she turned her head to the side and glanced at her clock-6:50 A.M. She squeezed her eyes shut and ran her hand down the side of her face. The rapping was persistent, never ending. Mumbling a few incoherent expletives, she found herself on her feet. Lisbon rolled her shoulders and neck, reveling in the feeling of the tension popping.

She jogged down the stairs-there's her morning exercise. Lisbon then returned to her normal tempo of walking quickly to her front door, not really too thrilled at whoever this was. She reached over on the kitchen table and picked up her keys, Quickly making work of the lock, she opened the door.

Wilma Nelson, her elderly neighbour…who liked Jane. The elderly woman stood clad only in a floral bathrobe, glasses on the tip of her nose, and hair piled up on the top of her head. She smiled slightly at the younger woman.

"I believe this belongs to you," she handed over a postcard, addressed to Lisbon, from Jane, "Seems as if that Patrick-man of yours still tries to keep in touch…hmpf!"

Lisbon eyes sparkled, "Thank you Mrs. Nelson," her mouth turned upwards into a smile, "Thank you so much!" she was tempted to hug the woman, but decided against it.

She scurried inside, heart beating rapidly. She looked at the postcard; it was a picture of the beach. Raising an eyebrow slightly she turned it over to read the back.

_Teresa-_

_I do sincerely apologise for such a long wait between cards. As you can probably tell, I'm by a beach-It's quite lovely and I wish you were here to join me, you would enjoy it. I do hope you had a wonderful Holiday Season and I hope you are still well. I miss you very much and I wish to see you in upcoming months._

_Love, Patrick_

_I hang my coat up in the first bar_

_There is no peace I have felt so far_

_The laughter penetrates my silence_

_As drunken men find flaws in silence_

**Personally I'm not sure how I liked how this one came out-Being sick and writing this late at night tends to screw me up a bit, but hey, using my insomnia for good use. Also, that pub listed above is a real pub in Sacramento-I googled it. **


	4. Part Four

**Disclaimer: I'm only a teenager…do you seriously think I can own a show AND a song used in a newly popular movie? Didn't think so.**

**Set the Fire to the Third Bar**

It was summer.

The hot, sticky season that she dreaded most. Sure, it was a huge step-up from the Chicago winter storms she had experiences as a child, but the one thing she could never get used to in Sacramento was the heat. She would sit in her office, head down on the cool wood of her desk, hair sticking to her forehead, as it would be pulled into a knot-riddled high raised ponytail.

And that was where she was now, shirt sleeves rolled up as far as they could go past her elbow, pants just begging to be cut off at the knee, and her bare feet flat on the ground below her. She kept her head on the edge of the cool desk, slowly moving it from side to side, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

There was a low murmur of voices. All around her she was hearing the low rumbling bustle of crowds passing by her office door, rambling on and on about a case. Right now those voices didn't matter, to her their voices were just nothing more than a little noise-slightly pesky in a way.

Lately she had found herself constantly in a dreary mood, causing her to feel fatigued and slightly ill. Occasionally someone would cross paths with her and cause her to overflow with anger. She had no exact reason to tell anyone why she remained in such a bitter mood every day. She wished everything could go back to what it was before.

She brought her arm up on the desk, splaying her fingers out and drumming them on the side of the table, listening to the light tapping noise they emitted. She shut her eyes and breathed in, leaning back in her chair, hearing it whine in protest. Yawning, she brought her hand over her mouth, letting out the little squeak that had Jane always smiling.

Jane.

She smiled at the thought of her former consultant, remembering his smiling face and sun kissed blond curls. Slowly she rested her chin on her forearm, rocking her head back and forward. Her lids slid shut slowly as she hummed low in her throat. Her head soon moved more to the right, becoming heavier as the tiredness slowly began to call to her. She allowed this, not wanting to fight it, for all she knew, she could be awakening to Jane and realizing his absence had been a result of a chemically induced coma.

Slowly, the soft murmur of voices and the constant movement of feet slowly pulled her into sleep.

_So far in her life, she has had so many people try to tell her how to grieve. So many people would tell her she would need to visit a shrink, to see a professional and give them all her income. People would tell her that she 'was not grieving correctly'. Was there even a correct way? Every shrink she went and saw after her mother's tragic death would tell her what she should be feeling-to her it didn't seem right. Especially since the shrink had never experienced something like this._

_But he was different. _

_Unlike so many people in her life, he would not tell her how to grieve. Over the course of her thirty some-odd years she has been given so many 'How to Grieve' pamphlets and seeing department issued shrinks. Eventually she began to throw the useless wastes of paper into the garbage bin. But Jane, he would let her grieve her own distinct way that seemed appropriate to her-if it was within reason._

_It was the little things, sure Patrick Jane did go all out with large gestures to show his affection, but he also gifted her with the pleasure of seeing the humble side of him that gave only his presence-the best kind of all. _

_About a year ago, she found herself coping with another hard bump in her life, a drunk driver had sped through the stop sign, barely missing her and colliding into a family mini-van. She watched the entire scene, how the metal bunched and protested. Both vehicles doing what they had been designed to do-protect the people on the inside. Sadly the driver, a young father, and his small son bled out on the concrete. The drunk had attempted to move away from the scene, getting out of his pickup and wobbling down the wet street towards the nearest bar. Lisbon had found herself getting out of her vehicle, frantically calling it in to the Sacramento P.D. then chasing after the initial cause. _

_The drunken man had protested, refused to come back with her. Instead he decided it would be more amusing to his her with the back of his hand, effectively angering her and splitting open her bottom lip, forming a deep purple bruise around the area. He laughed and sniggered as he continued to try to move away from her-then she had it. Lisbon had grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully behind his back. The drunk had screamed and she slammed him to the ground, allowing one side of his face to become marred from the pavement. _

_Once the Sacramento P.D. had arrived, she stood against her Camry, arms crossed in front of her chest, and letting the cool breeze move her hair into her face. Her eyes had continued to stare in front of her, watching everyone fret around the scene, watching the nearby citizens walk out of their homes in nothing but bathrobes and slippers. _

_Then a low rumbling of a familiar once-luxury car pulled up in front of her. The distinct Cerulean blue Citroën was left idling for a few moments, unmoving in the same space. The driver had been contemplating what to do, brushing his thumbs up and down the thin driver's wheel. A low creaking noise let her know his door opened and the soft padding of his worn work boots slapping against the pavement let her know he was coming closer to her._

"_Lisbon…" Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him reach out to touch her shoulder. Automatically she flinched back, recoiling on impulse. _

_She hadn't said anything, just stood there, watching nothing in particular. Another gust of wind came, brushing her hair past her face for a few moments before settling across the arch of her nose. Surpassingly, she did not jump when she felt a gentle hand brush the wavy locks from her face, sliding slowly down her cheeks._

_Why was his voice so harmonic? To her it was her own lullaby, it could calm her within seconds, "Lisbon," his voice remained normal as he tried to get her attention once more, "Lis-Teresa!" it was like she was in a deep sleep. Sleeping with her eyes open-he was sure he's done it sometime in his life._

_Jane felt relieved when her eyes snapped to his, blank and pained. Her breath hitched slightly as she hunched her shoulders upwards, pulling them closer to her body. He felt the side of his hand caress her neck through the thick blanket of hair protecting it from the harsh cool winds. _

"_Teresa, are you all right?"_

_She nodded softly, first dipping her head and bringing it back before her neck seemed to function correctly, "Yes," her voice sounded so small-so weak. So not his Lisbon. The woman before him looked as if she was nothing but a broken toy, staring off into space._

_Just waiting to be fixed._

"_Have they talked to you yet?" he moved away from her slightly, digging his hands into his jacket pockets and turning to lean against the Camry._

_She nodded, "Yes," once more; the small voice that scared him indefinitely was present._

"_Then why don't we leave?" his hand was on her shoulder once more. She felt the need to smile, but something kept from it. The feeling of his warmth transferring through a simple touch only to offer a chance at comfort made her feel grateful for human contact. _

_Her broken eyes slid a little more closed before she nodded. Her hands dug into her pocket and fumbled with her keys, nearly dropping them on the ground below. Jane watched her, making sure she was all right. Then red and blue lights danced over her body, hitting her face and highlighting its beautiful contours. He smiled softly when he turned on his heel and headed back to his Citroën. _

_Lisbon had driven home on autopilot, not thinking about anything. The way her fingers gripped the steering wheel, the way her car sounded as it glided over the asphalt pavement was all the same to her. She chewed on her lip slightly, rolling the plumper flesh between her teeth. Thumbs brushing up, not wanting to stay in their unmoving clutch. She had stopped at every requirement, staying there longer than needed. She went the exact speed limit, not wanting to risk scaring herself._

_Yes, the mighty Teresa Lisbon was afraid of fast driving. _

_Once she found herself outside her apartment, she scurried up the steps quickly, fingers searching for her keys that she had ignorantly disposed of in her pocket. Her index finger curled around the loop and pulled it out of the dark depths of her pocket. Her hand quivered, shook, causing the keys to clamber to the ground. Quickly, she bent down at the knees, brushing her hair behind her ear in the process uttering "Dammit" under her breath. _

_When she stood back up, her hair fell back over her eyes. She gave up on pushing them away, there was no use anymore. Sighing she jammed the keys in the door and turned them to the left, unlocking the door immediately. She pushed it open, ignoring the creaking noise it unleashed. She stepped inside, one hand grasping the lapels of her jacket to begin to shrug it over her shoulders. _

_She was still clutching her keys when she brought her jacket down to her elbows, slowly shrugging it off her body. She tossed her head over her shoulder, realizing the door was still open. Sighing, she kicked it shut, leaving a wet mark on the lower portion of the wood. She would clean it later if she remembered. She wrapped her hand around her keys and tossed them on the wood table, cringing slightly when the skidded and fell over the edge. _

_Her muscles felt tired, weary. Her eyes threatening to flutter close as she stood in her kitchen. She tilt her head back and yawned, not covering her mouth as she did so. Blinking away the tears that formed in her eyes afterwards, she made her legs move towards her stairs. She wanted sleep, and she wanted it now. _

_She had stripped of all the clothes she had worn that day, only reaching for her oversized jersey to slip over her head. Not caring what happened to the clothes she had worn, she just kicked them to the side to deal with in the morning. Yawning once more, she pulled back the comforter and sheets to settle into her warm bed. _

_She settled on her side, facing away from the bright lights of her clock. Keeping her eyes closed, she felt herself slowly drift away into a deep promising sleep. Her hand moved up to her pillow, palm flat before fingers curling upwards. She subconsciously breathed in deeply through her nose before letting it out._

_Yes, sleep was a great thing._

_But what she didn't hear was the front door creak open. _

_The footsteps moving around on the first floor of her apartment._

_The boots being slipped off with a loud thumping noise followed by a low moan. _

_The footsteps arriving in her hallway, moving around closer and closer to her. _

_Her bedroom door being pushed open, a lone figure moving in slowly, eyes remaining on her sleeping figure. _

_The blankets being pulled back, the mattress dipping under the man's weight. _

_Him settling in with a sigh without any invitation._

_Hours later the intruder found himself observing the petite sleeping woman. Her hair splayed out across the pillow, framing her head like a halo. Every little shallow breath she took telling him that she remained asleep. The radio clock's glowing red numbers changing ever so often, the lighting in the room changing slightly as a result. This disrupted him._

_Closing his eyes, he contemplated if he should do it-come up behind her and hold onto her. Sighing to himself, he decided he would. Scooting over to her, he studied her movements for a few moments. He slowly reached over, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him until her back touched up against his chest. _

_He shifted slightly, keeping his head buried in the crook of her neck, breathing in her vanilla-cinnamon scent. Oh what a wonderful smell it was, so soothing and alluring-so Lisbon._

_Within no time, he found himself asleep, dead to the world. His mouth parted against her bare skin, his breath tickling the soft, delicate skin. His arms wrapped tighter around her, using her as his very own personal body pillow. His leg moved forward, entwining itself with hers. Her body shifted this time, grinding slightly against his. His body reacted in its own natural way. _

_He had only slept for a mere couple of hours. When he awoke, he blinked a few times before his eyes fluttered closed once more. He unconsciously held on tighter to the thing he was holding onto, nuzzling his nose into its neck. _

_Then his eyes snapped open._

_Still hazy from the couple of hours of sleep he had, he looked at the dark locks covering the face…Lisbon. Yes, he had slept-no really-with Teresa Lisbon. They were entwined together like lovers, bodies pressed up against each other rather intimately. He didn't mind, after all it did feel good…right. _

_When she shifted in her sleep, he groaned, yes it felt good-too good. If she kept this up, he wouldn't be able to control himself. He would have his very own way with her, despite wanting to keep celibate. He was also very sure that she would not disagree-only a few weeks ago they had engaged in the act of kissing in her living room. Then she shifted again in her sleep, now actually stretching more cat-like, arching her back…into him some more. _

_He listened to her breathing once more, it wasn't helping him. This was all just making things worse for him, what had he done to deserve this? The very thoughts coursing through his mind made him feel like a hormonal teenager once more…such as the thought of Lisbon without clothing. _

_In an attempt to pry himself away from her, her leg slid upwards a little, making him groan once more. The smoothness of her bare legs was killing him. The way her soft little body could feel like silk under his rougher skin. It all added to the tension his body was currently feeling. He moved his hand from around her waist to her hip. It soon decided it would like to have a mind of its own, deciding to trail down her hip to her thigh, then to her knee to move upwards again. _

_His hand didn't stop at the hem of her jersey, however. Instead it trailed under it, completely ignoring boundaries. This was insane, his hand wouldn't listen to the rational side of his brain, now his hand was currently running up her lower back, sliding over across her belly, before onto her back to follow along her spine. _

_Then he felt a hand grasp his roughly, "Jane…" her voice was a warning, "What the hell are you doing in my apartment," he was in trouble._

_His eyes opened wide as she continued to grasp onto his hand. Her fingers dancing over his racing pulse, "The door was open," it was true, it wasn't like he actually broke in this time. No one would be stupid enough to break into a state agent's home anyway-unless they had a death wish. _

"_Yes, but what are you doing in my bed?"_

"_It looked more comfortable," she sighed, letting go of his hand and turning over to face him directly. He smiled at her, taking in her tousled appearance, "Good morning."_

"_The real reason, Jane," her eyes narrowed, one hand now gripping onto the sheet, the other gripping onto the pillow, "Tell me the truth."_

_He moved back, eyes fluttering for a second. He propped himself up on one elbow, giving him a better vantage point on watching her, "I was worried about you."_

"_Why," she sat up too, hands now coiled together in her lap, "I'm fine."_

_He cocked his head to the side, "But were you last night?" he watched a slight flash of fear enter her eyes as she slowly replayed the car accident-her mother's tragedy. She shut her eyes, breathed deeply, and squared her shoulders. _

"_Yes, I was perfectly fine."_

"_Teresa…" the sound of her first name on his tongue sounded odd, he just didn't usually refer her to anything but 'Lisbon', "You need to trust me."_

_She studied him for a long while, contemplating inside her mind on whether or not she can trust Patrick Jane. He was a long-time psychic, preying on the people who were gullible enough o spend thousands of dollars on him and his father. _

"_I remembered my mother," he saw them-the tears formalizing on the corner of her eyes, "The very thought of her being killed by another just didn't seem right," she looked back down at her hands. He gently reached over and covered hers with his own, she cautiously looked up, earning a smile from him._

"_It'll be all right," her head lolled to the side slightly. Her eyes looked empty as she scooted over closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He did the same to her waist, trying to get her closer to his body. _

_He soon felt a hot, warm liquid hit the side of his neck and seep into his shirt. Her head was buried into the crook of his neck, one of her hands grasping at a loose curl hanging low. He slowly decided to thread his fingers through her hair, slowly brushing his fingers along her scalp. He leaned down into her ear, whispering nothing but sweet condolences that only he knew that worked. _

_She had pulled away from him, happily moving around at the sound of his harmonic voice. She seemed to feel better-the crying did the trick it seems. _

A loud knocking noise jerked her out of her sleep, nearly knocking over various valuable pieces of evidence littering her office space. Narrowing her eyes the offender, she waved them in, still rubbing her eyes slightly. Her offender with wide, guilty eyes, Van Pelt, clutched onto her small laptop, fingers drumming on the edge. The rookie agent walked in front of her desk, stopping until she was about an inch.

"Uh boss, we have a new lead," she moved her hand over the sensitive mouse, "A Victor Daniels, served three years in state prison."

The brunette agent nodded, "All right, take Rigsby with you, go check him out," she dismissed her, the red-head bowing her head and shutting the miniscule laptop and almost jogging out of Lisbon's office. Lisbon smiled to herself at the sound of Van Pelt awakening the larger agent currently in a food-included coma. Too much Chinese take-out.

Shaking her head, she stood up and grasped her car keys. She maneuvered around her chair, pushing it back in place, and then heading out of the office. She would come back, she just wanted some alone time back home. Lisbon had walked down with Van Pelt and Rigsby, the two of them on edge about their relationship. She nodded to them, watching them fidget as they waited for the elevator. The entire ride was filled with tension. Van Pelt kept her eyes facing forward, Rigsby kept on shifting looks from the closed doors to Van Pelt's face.

Lisbon had found herself smirking slightly at her two young agents.

By the time the door had opened, the both of them had moved out, Rigsby almost making a public romantic gesture of ushering her out of the elevator. Shaking her head once more, she headed out to the parking lot to her car.

Despite her air conditioning being broken, she took her time driving, moving through neighbourhoods, watching children play outside on their summer holidays. Kids would be jumping through sprinklers, chasing each other with hoses. Laughter, echoing throughout the entire streets she had passed. Smiling to herself, she remembered when she could do that…that was a long time ago. Placing her wrist on the wheel, letting her hand hang over on the other side, she accelerated the car forward, through the red light and towards her apartment building.

As she stepped out of her car and shut her door closed, hitting the 'lock' button on her keys, she noticed someone out of the corner of her eye advancing towards her. Her head turned slightly, mouth parting only a small amount.

"Miss Lisbon!" it was the mailman she had befriended over the months, running towards her clutching onto a letter, waving it around, "You have a letter from Patrick!" she smiled brightly, brushing the sweat off her brow.

"Thank you Martin," she reached her hand out, almost grinning like an idiot once she felt the paper-y letter touch her hands.

Yes, an actual letter.

Her heart practically leapt for joy. Could a letter mean more hope to come? Maybe it will actually be him coming to her.

"You okay?" she raised an eyebrow at Martin as she began to rip open the letter, "Because you're blushing…did I do something?" she watched him reach behind himself to scratch at the back of his neck.

Still clutching onto the letter in one hand, she raised both hands in front of her, "Oh no, it's just the heat," she lowered her hands, nodding in the process, "This piece of junk's air conditioning just went out."

Then she looked down at her hands, smiling once more and ripping the envelope open. She carefully pulled out the letter, reveling at the fact that it was actually a letter!

"Well, I'll leave you to it," she looked up and waved as the mailman walked off, glancing back at her for a split second.

She unfolded it, happy to see his script coating the majority of the paper.

It had been a long, long time since his last card.

_Dear Teresa,_

_I am so sorry for a huge delay in writing. I will try not to make myself take a long period of time again. I'm fine right now, I had a little scare when I was in New York a couple of years ago, and now I am sure you are wondering what that little scare was. Don't worry, I'm fine now, there was just a small little scare with a yellow taxicab-nothing too serious._

_I would like to ask how you are, but I will not get a reply. I do assume and hope that you are fine, I would imagine so. Cho and Rigsby would never let anything bad happened to you. _

_I think I might have picked up a new hobby-drawing. I did visit many studios, learning basics of how to draw somewhat realistically. When I do come back, I will show you. _

_Other than the little accident, I have kept myself very busy. I want to let you know that I have not forgotten you nor will I ever. You, Teresa Lisbon, are one of the most memorable people I have ever met in my life and I wish for you to remain that way._

_Love, Patrick_

Her heart pounded against her chest, tears threatening to fall. This letter gave her new hope-that he was going to come back soon. Holding it to her chest, she leaned against her car and looked up at the sky, watching the fluffy white clouds dance around, almost happily declaring of Patrick Jane's soon-to-be arrival in Sacramento.

Whenever that will be.

_Their words mostly voices_

_Ghosts with just voices_

_Your words in my memory_

_Are like music to me_

**I started writing this on Wednesday evening-let's put it this way, it didn't get done until now. **

**Now I'll try to update my other story. **

**I would love to hear from everyone :]**


	5. Part Five

**I'm sorry for making everyone wait! **

**Disclaimer: I own NOTHING**

**Warning: Possible sexual situations in flashback**

**Set the Fire to the Third Bar**

Lisbon rolled onto her side, groaning in frustration. Her hair fanned messily around her head on the goose feather pillow, hands fisted into the case. She buried the side of her face, desperate to feel the cool case. It soon became heated with her body. Abruptly, she sat up, grasping the pillow in her hands and flipping it over. She plopped back down upon the pillow, ignoring the hissing noise it unleashed.

All this movement really made her headache worse.

Sweat ran down her hairline, beading on her brow. She shivered violently, moaning lightly in pain. Her hand left her pillow and grasped her abdomen, fingers holding onto the cotton fabric of her T-shirt.

Never in her life has she ever been this sick.

Then all of a sudden, she felt her stomach begin to reject the Mexican food she had ate the night before with the team come back up. Her eyes opened and she rolled out of her bed, extending her arm towards her trash bin. Her hands gripped around the rim, pulling it closer to her body as she leaned over it, feeling the bile bubble up from her stomach and spill out through her mouth.

She gagged, reaching up behind her head to pull her hair back. A few strands remained plastered to her forehead as she coughed the last remains of the vomit from her mouth. Her whole body writhed with spasms, knuckles turning white as the clutched the trash bin's rim. The room suddenly felt colder, as if the heat had been sucked away from her room and her body. She moaned, shivering as she felt the gooseflesh rise. She pushed herself away from the trash bin, leaning against the bed frame. Her head was thrown back, and then it lolled to the side. She felt very weak, as if she had gone on for days only on coffee then later had a major caffeine crash. Her body felt as if it had a been dipped in a layer of slime, making her feel the sudden grossness of being sick and the sudden urge to shower…or bathe. Bathing was probably better-she would rather not fall if she were unsteady on her feet.

She gripped onto her mattress, slowly lifting herself off her carpeted floor. The sudden wave of nausea almost caused her to fall over as the sudden elevation made her head pound. Moaning, she slowly began to move her feet in the direction of her bathroom. She kept herself close to the wall, hands barely touching the white walls before her palm was pressed firmly. Her breathing became ragged and laboured as she continued to make her way to the bathroom. Her knees began to shake as she turned slightly, leaning flush against the wall.

Her eyes opened and she pushed herself off the wall with a new determination: Get to the bathroom without vomiting on the clean floor.

Her hand gripped around the knob, jerking it open and bending her elbow to reach up and flick on the lights. She did a combined moan and gasp as the bright light hit her eyes, elevating the pain in her head ten fold. She then grasped onto the granite counter. Her legs nearly gave out on her as her body swung rapidly towards the porcelain sink, now grasping its edges as she bent over, expelling the last remaining contents of the Mexican food. Her entire body shuddered once more as she tilted her head back, feeling her head pulsate as the pain radiated from the back of her skull to her front. She then leaned over the sink once more, feeling the last amount of bile leave her mouth. Her knees buckled underneath her, folding until her forehead rested against the wooden cabinets. The sweat dampened hair plastered across the counters as she let out a ragged, laboured breath. Her eyelids slipped closed as she turned her head slightly, nose barely brushing up against the wood. She then turned around, still remaining on her knees, palms now pressing down onto the tile floor as she moved across the room. She stood up on her knees once more, preparing her bath.

She let the tub fill up about halfway as she stood up, grasping the hem of her T-shirt to lift it over her head. Once it was over her head, she gasped, almost falling backwards.

"Jesus," she breathed, blinking before squeezing her eyes shut. She stood, slightly unsteadily for a few moments before bending slightly to hook her thumbs into the waste band of her cotton panties and pull them down. In a very inept manner, she had managed to kick them away as she lifted one leg, placing it in the water before the other next to it. She grasped the edges, slowly leading her body down.

Due to her sickness, she felt her body's sensitivity rate heighten when it came to touch; it was just something that has happened to her since she was a child. Shuddering, she leaned against the end of the tub, wanting to stay there forever. As the miniature waves she had created upon entrance continued to lap at her body, tingeing the skin a slight pink, she felt her eyes droop closed, slowly falling asleep.

Her head was resting on her neck as she soon fell asleep…

_Lisbon balanced a hot bowl of soup on the crook of her elbow and a coffee mug full of ginger ale, slowly fizzing away in her hand. She stepped over a flowered pillow, nearly tripping over it. Shaking her head, she looked down at her couch at her consultant who always claimed to 'never get sick'. _

_Never get sick her ass._

_Here he was, lying asleep on her couch, expelling the contents of his stomach every few hours in one of the most violent of ways. She had called him out, telling him he was sick. Of course the stubborn man had declined, saying it was nothing. Well, this little nothing was enough to make him feel like complete crap and immobilize him for the past two days. Lisbon herself had recently gotten over this two weeks ago; Jane had decided it would be great fun to attempt to heal her until she was able to go back to work. What he didn't expect was how fierce this 'little' bug just so happened to be. _

"_Jane," her voice was soft, yet commanding, "Jane!" she had tried this thirty minutes ago and had no answer from the man, so she had decided to put the soup back on the stove to prevent it from going cool._

"_JANE!" she balanced once more, lifting one foot to nudge his leg underneath the hand made blanket. Her heart almost broke in pity as he shuddered before her, attempting to pull the blanket closer to his feverish body. _

"_Ter-esa?" he coughed loudly, it sounded almost painful as she watched his whole body move. Slowly he rolled over, taking in her nervous appearance. He knew very well that at this moment, he was not all that great of a person to look at at the moment. His hair disheveled, his dress shirt left untucked and wrinkled and his vest missing, "How're you doin'?" she almost cringed at his wheeze, it was not a normal sound coming from his lungs. _

_She nodded her head, "I'm much better than you are," she sat the ginger ale down on her coffee table, then granting herself a better grasp on the hot bowl of soup to lay it down on the table beside the beverage, "You should eat this," he shook his head, giving her a foul look, "C'mon Jane…"_

"_No," he sounded like a small child, now burrowing underneath all the blankets, "I'm not too keen on vegetable soup," neither was she, she was more of a chicken noddle fan, but this was the only can the store had. _

"_M'sorry Jane, it's all they had," he squinted his eyes, rolling over on his side away from her, "At least drink the ginger ale," she wrapped her fingers around the mug, letting her fingers loop through the little ring._

_He looked over his shoulder slightly, raising his eyebrow, "Meh! That does nothing!" _

_Her arm sagged slightly, she furrowed her brow and changed her footing, "Jane, will you please act like an adult for once in your life?"_

"_That hurts Lisbon," his voice sounded muffled, but she could just barely make out what he had said, "I mean really, why so cruel?" she rolled her eyes, grasping onto the coffee mug tigher._

"_Jane, I'm serious," she rested one hand on her hip, bending it at the elbow. She tapped her foot unconsciously, "Drink this. Now," she didn't want to leave any word choices that could mean it was a choice. _

_Slowly she heard the couch creak and the rustling of Jane's clothing as he sat up, leaning back slightly on his elbows. His normally bright blue-green eyes looked glassy and dull. One side of his hair was plastered to the side of his head; this was because of his constant dozing on one side of his body. He had dark bags underneath his eyes, making him look as sick as he feels. _

_Shakily, he reached one arm out. She extended her own, meeting him halfway and slipping the coffee mug into his hand. The weight in his hands almost caused him to drop the bubbling drink and it was her automatic instinct to reach out in attempt to catch it before it fell. He smiled slightly, bending his arm to bring the rim to his lips. He took a slow sip, not even a mouthful before he tilted his head back, swallowing it. _

"_I'll get some crackers," he wanted to protest, but she was already heading back to her kitchen. Jogging would be a better way to describe her actions, causing her shirt to bounce up and down slightly, her dark auburn waves moving up and down on her shoulders, slipping past them slightly. He heard her open and close a cupboard, then shuffling around her kitchen rather rapidly before opening and closing another. He heard an uttered 'dammit' as he heard one slam shut. _

"_They are on top of your refrigerator," he winced, his throat scratchy and his voice hoarse. He then heard her sigh in frustration and come out of the kitchen area to grasp onto one of her wooden chairs. She hoisted it up and carried it in front of her fridge. He heard her plop it down and climb up, hearing it creak under her weight. Soon he heard the plastic container crinkle, causing his lips to turn up into a smile as he brought the ginger ale to his lips once more. _

_Soon she came back towards him, carrying the plastic bag towards him, "How'd you know where they were?" she set them down on the table, bending over at the waist to open the Ziploc. _

"_I put them there," he saw her shake her head, but her smile said it all. She stood back up, holding six in one hand. He extended a hand as she placed them into his palm. He looked down-Only four. He looked back up to see her pop one into her mouth and fiddling with the other between her two hands. _

"_What?"_

_He shook his head, leaning more firmly against the couch, "Nothing," he then set the mug down on the table before picking up a cracker in one hand, bringing it to his lips and nibbling on it, savouring the salty taste. _

_She sat down on the arm, squinting down at him as she popped the last cracker into her mouth, moving it around slightly before biting down on it. She brought her hand up to her mouth, covering it with her palm. She turned her head, letting the dark waves cover the side of her face. _

_Cocking his head to the side, he reached out with one hand and pulled her hair back. He watched her body stiffen, then slowly turning back towards him, "What are you doing?" she didn't sound mad-lucky him. She sounded more so shocked by this gesture. _

"_Oh nothing," he smiled, placing a cracker on his tongue and eating it completely this time, "You never did ask me how I'm feeling, I feel hurt," he continued to chew, not bothering to cover his mouth with his hand. _

_She nodded slightly, "Okay," she paused, smiling, "How are you feeling?"_

_He smiled up at her, "Oh thank you Lisbon, so nice of you to ask," he leaned more forward slightly, "I actually feel a whole lot better today."_

_And it wasn't until another day later until he found himself lying down on her floor, with her curled into his body, keeping him close by clutching onto his shirt collar. They had just finished watching the movie "Catch & Release", not really one of his favourites he concluded, but nevertheless, a touching movie about moving on. About halfway through, he had noticed that she had fallen asleep with her head on his arm. Slowly her head moved up to rest on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him and tossing one leg over his. _

_It actually felt quite nice. _

_She mumbled something unintelligible against his shoulder as she shifted slightly, her bare leg running up against his cloth covered one. He smiled, keeping his arms around her waist possessively. He highly doubted he would ever be in a position like this with her ever again due to both of their insecurities. If she were to wake up, the moment would probably be ruined. _

_His breath hitched when he felt her body move more onto his, using him as a human body pillow. Her hands moved, loosening before grasping harder onto his shirt. She nuzzled her nose now into the crook of his neck, her warm breath dancing over his skin. He groaned, feeling his arms wrap around her even tighter. He shut his eyes, humming slightly and thinking of unpleasant things…yet the pleasant-and fatally arousing-images soon flashed through his mind. He placed his hand on the back of her neck, holding onto her tightly, keeping her securely against his chest. He took the hand off her neck, slowly brushing the apple of her cheek with his thumb before running his finger down her bottom lip. Her face scrunched up as she turned away from him, nuzzling even farther into his neck, moaning._

_He shut his eyes tighter once more, refusing to open them again. He squirmed in place, only causing her to move more onto his body, groaning as a response to tell him to stop. Her pelvis was now placed on his, rubbing. If he did not get this petite woman off of him soon, he would do something he would regret. _

"_Lisbon?" no answer, "Teresa?" nothing._

_He opened his eyes, blinking away the dark spots and focused on the ceiling. How was he to wake her up? He certainly didn't want to push her across the floor and give her some form of rug burn. Sucking in a ragged breath, he braced his hand against her shoulder, pushing on her enough to get some of her weight off his body. _

_But her body was determined to stay melded against his._

_She grumbled something unintelligible; arms still wrapped around him, face still in the crook of his neck. He already had known that Teresa Lisbon had a strong grip, but her maintaining her strong grip and sleep at the same time was something surprising even to him. _

_Then he felt her move. _

_Her head soon lifted from his shoulder, eyes blinking sleepily. She fought a yawn, covering her mouth. Her eyes watered as she looked at him, green eyes focusing on his. He sucked in a breath and pulled himself to sit back on his elbows. He looked down at their legs, still somewhat entwined. It took her a while to follow his gaze. Once she saw it, her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. She pushed herself away from him, practically crawling across the floor._

"_What the hell Jane?!"_

_He held a hand up in front of himself, "You started it!" _

"_I did no-!" her eyes landed on his crotch, the colour intensifying in her cheeks, "Oh my God!" her voice was a small squeak, he then followed her sight, himself now blushing furiously. He looked over his shoulder, eyeing the hand made blanket and pulled it towards him and bunching it up to place in hips lap. By the time he looked back at where she was, she was already moving quickly up the stairs, probably mentally cursing him. _

_He leaned back, smiling._

Lisbon's eyes opened, looking around her bathroom frantically. She groaned at the sudden headache still pounding continuously in her head. She ran her hand down the side of her face, fingers sliding up to rub her temples. Pulling her hand away, she braced her arms on either side of the tub, feeling uneasy once more. She pulled herself up, feeling the water move around her body and the sudden cool air hit her once more. The mini tsunamis hit at her legs as she stepped over, continuing to build up even after her departure from the tub.

She undid the plug, listening to it moan and groan as the drain swallowed up all the remaining lukewarm water. She reached out, grabbing a towel to wrap around her body. It was more so an effort to stay warm and to absorb the stray water droplets rebellious enough to remain on her body.

She felt the sudden urge to lie down on the cool tile floor. With a haggard sigh, she kneeled down, bending down and letting her palms slap lightly against the flooring. Slowly she leaned down, rolling onto her back. She froze as the sudden feeling of the cold tile moved through her skin, causing her entire body to shiver.

It's been months since she last heard from him.

And it's been almost a year since she last saw him.

Why hadn't he written to her? Let her know he was all right and give her some insight to where he was located?

She turned her hair slightly, letting it stick to the cold floor. A tear built up in her eyes, rolling down the apple of her cheek and coming to rest in the corners of her mouth. She shut her eyes, letting out a tired breath…then falling into another deep sleep.

_I'm miles from where you are_

_I lay down on the cold ground_

_I pray that something picks me up_

_And sets me down in your warm arms_

**Again I am sorry for the wait-I hope to get the new one out tomorrow (If I'm lucky enough…no promises!) But remember, I want to finish this before the month of February ends! Only two or three more chapters!**

**I'm going to borrow my cousin's metaphor:**

**Reviews are like chocolate, you can't get enough of 'em! **


	6. Part Six

**MK-The one in Part Four is false, I was literally asleep when I wrote the last bits of that one. The correct one is Part Five. Thank you for telling me.**

**Leighanna-Having fun in Vancouver?**

**Warning: Could make some people jump up and down for the first part of this…**

**Disclaimer: I only own that fudge I ate for lunch…**

**Set the Fire to the Third Bar**

His hair was tousled and surprisingly blonder as it grew and continued to get kissed by the sun. The sunglasses lay on the tip of his nose, slowly falling down. He swiftly reached up from the steering wheel, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose. He slid one hand from the wheel, letting his wrist rest on the hard material. He leaned into the cushions, attempting to get comfortable.

The sun moved behind a cloud, effectively shielding his body from its rays. He looked up, watching the sky begin to turn darker, a storm was coming, and he felt the pressure begin to drop. Sniffing in the cool breeze, he re-gripped onto the steering wheel and reached up to press a button on the ceiling of the car, sealing the sun-roof shut. As he brought his hand down, it paused by his chin, brushing along the scruff growing there.

He needed to shave quite badly.

The sun never moved out from behind that cloud, more clouds soon began to form and cluster around, keeping the sun prisoner. The sky began to darken, slowly draining the life force out of it making it into a gloomy grey. The lights on his Lexus lit up, keeping everything visible for a few feet in front of him.

He ran past a sign, probably warning him about the speed limit. Meh, he usually saw those signs merely as guidelines to driving friendly. Consequences may be damned.

A loud crack of thunder sounded, making him lean far onto the wheel, observing the lightening flicker around in the sky, lighting it up beautifully. His mouth parted slightly, eyes watching wondrously in amazement. A small smile appeared on his face when he slowly began to lean back into his seat, that is, until a shrill horn of a smaller compact car sounded from the other direction, causing him to quickly jerk the wheel to the right, causing the entire car to turn, weaving off and on the road. The compact car slammed on its brakes, tires squealing before regaining its balance.

He kept on driving, knowing that the stupidest thing that he could do in this situation would be to step on the brakes. It would do more harm than good and send him off the road, doing unnecessary damage to the Lexus and himself. Once regaining control, he shut his eyes and let out a breath of air.

_In and out_

Opening his eyes, he smiled softly, watching the light raindrops hit the windshield, exploding in front of him and scattering. It was all a repeated action, continuous. The soft sounds like a melody in his ears, calming him.

That was it.

He jerked the car over to the side of the road, going to the extent of parking it on the gravelly dirt. He put it in park and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He pushed off his seat belt and opened the door, stepping out on the freshly slickened road, and stood up to his full height. He squared his shoulders back, stretching them out. Water droplets continued to fall from the sky, hitting his shoulders and hair, staining his clothes with the dampness. He looked up, extending his arms out, palms upwards. He reached up, pulling off his sunglasses and tossing them into his car and slammed it shut.

He jogged out onto the dirt, not even bothering to resist the urge to dance, let his worries float away along with this weather. He yanked his head back, mouth open, tasting the fresh cool water. He squinted up, smiling, feeling his heart thud against his chest. He felt the rain intensify; let it pour down onto his body. He allowed his body to get soaked, for his hair to get plastered to his face. The water beaded on his face, running down as he put his head downwards. He stepped back, watching lightening dance. Watched it dance to its own free rhythm-not caring what it destroyed in the process.

_Violent storms always brought back memories…_

_It was how he had met his wife, Charlotte. She had been running from a local coffee shop, light brown hair darkened and falling from its bun. Skin appearing paler, clothes ruined no doubt. He had walked over to her, placing his umbrella over her and letting her stay dry while he allowed himself to be soaked in the ruthless water. _

_Then they had talked-gotten to know each other. Surprisingly, it had not been in the least bit awkward. He was naturally charming and a good man. He knew Charlotte could sense this. Within twenty minutes, he had a date. Not even a year he waited until the next storm to propose to her, watching her own rainfall from her eyes, dropping onto the floor. He had reached up, brushing away the tears and leaning forward to place a soft kiss onto her lips. On the day they were married, it was also raining. Both had wanted it that way, surprising everyone around them. The rain had held significance to them, something special they could not share with another. On their wedding night, they listened to the thunderclap, almost as if it were ecstatic that they were married-moving in synch with the rain outside their open window with curtains drawn to keep it closed._

_Years later, his precious daughter Emily was always at his side. She had wanted her daddy to protect her from the rain and thunder. He had held her close to his chest, telling her how safe she was. He would tell her every time the thunder would go; it was clapping for his family. His daughter would smile, and eventually, it was her own personal lullaby. _

_Now the thunder was a mockery._

_When his family had died, it had thundered that day. Viciously thundered, almost as if it were telling him to go home and protect his family. Every time he heard thunder, he would feel guilt sprang into his chest, almost suffocating him. The thunder was telling him 'I told you so…'_

_Then she made it better._

_She cured him._

_It was unexpected when he felt her crawl into his hotel bed during a case down in the San Diego area. He had been just dozing off, finally feeling sleep claim him when he heard a soft shuffle of feet along the carpet. Soon he felt the blankets being moved back and the bed dip. A soft aroma of cinnamon hit his senses…. Lisbon. _

_He felt her slide into the bed fully, reaching forward and pulling the blankets to her chest. She had leaned back against the pillow, letting her hair cover the pillow. She just lay there for about a minute before he heard her let out a laboured sigh. He heard the sheets move as she turned onto her side, facing him. _

"_Yes Lisbon?"_

_He never got a reply. She probably never knew he was awake…probably blushing furiously. The possibilities were truly endless, but when he opened his eyes, he was amazed. Yes, it was Lisbon who was in his bed. What he did not expect was the unshed tears in her eyes, building up and ready for release. _

"_Teresa," he whispered slightly, sitting up, resting his head in his palm, "What is wrong?" he saw her chew on her lip slightly, shutting her eyes and burying her head into the pillow. _

_A sudden clap of thunder sent her moving forward against his body, arms childishly wrapping around his body. He was surprised…especially since she was the one surprising him. Normally Lisbon was someone he could read like an open book._

_But not tonight._

_She grasped onto his pale blue pajama shirt, fingers wrinkling the once-crisp fabric. Tears fell onto his clothing, allowing the wet spots to show instantly, growing larger as they absorbed into the material. He wrapped an arm around her waist, then moved his other hand to hold onto the back of her head. Jane sat up more firmly, keeping her pressed to him. The hand on her waist moved down to her hip, then sliding up the oversized jersey she wore. His palm pressed into the heated skin of her lower back, making her shudder. _

_A sudden wracked sobbed moved through her body, making her spasm almost uncontrollably. He held onto her more firmly, placing a kiss on her tear-stained cheek. He felt her heart begin to beat more rapidly as her hand eased its grip. He looked down at her. She was almost unrecognizable to him, eyes red and swollen with tears. The droplets still fell down her cheeks, building up on her chin before falling down between their bodies. _

"_Shhh, it's okay," he pulled her closer to him, watching her face contort in more emotional pain, "It's okay," his soft breath caressed her ear. He continued to move his hand beneath her jersey, rubbing in effort to keep her close to human contact. His hand tangled in her wavy hair, finger coiling around one rebellious lock of hair, refusing to be straight or wavy…but curly. _

"_I'm sorry," her voice sounded small…almost childlike. She slowly looked up into his eyes, "I'm sorry," she repeated, wrapping her arms around his body and crushing her body against his. They appeared to be melded together, almost inseparable._

"_What are you sorry for?" his voice was not firm, it was soft and questioning. _

_He felt her shake her head in his chest, arms still tight around his body. He bent down slightly, placing a kiss into her hair, "Teresa," he felt her body go limp around him, her arms slowly loosening around him, "Teresa?" he pulled away from her slightly, carefully pulling her back._

_Her eyes were shut, breathing slow and shallow._

_She was asleep._

_Gently, he lay her down next to him, head on the pillow, and wrapped tightly inside a blanket. He lay down besides her, taking her wrist in his hand, delicately holding it as if she were a china doll. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as her eyes squinted slightly, moaning in her sleep. Soon her body relaxed, head turning and nuzzling the pillow. He watched her sleep, listened to the even breathing escaping her nose. Soon he allowed his lids to close, permitting sleep. He felt himself drift off…allowing the rain fall help him fall asleep. _

_The thunder had brought his Lisbon to him, allowing him to see a side of her he has never seen before in his life. He reveled at it, smiling happily in his sleep as he accepted this as nature's way of subtly telling him whom he should love. Nature was right, gently pushing him closer to her personally. In the morning, he knew they would take two steps back, her recoiling away from him and giving him pointless, untrue reasons._

_And that happened._

_He awakened four hours later, her side of the bed cold. It smelled like her, leaving her scent on it. The bed was in disarray around where she slept, reminding him that she had been there. He had looked around the room, looking for her just in case he sleep fogged mind had missed a detail about this morning._

_Regretfully, he hadn't. _

_It was sunny…cheerful. _

_Too bad neither of them were._

The rain masked the tears that were running down his cheeks, flooding into his open mouth. He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath before carrying his feet back towards his car. Mud splattered up on his pants, permanently staining them. He no longer cared about those pants-they were unimportant to him right now.

He slid into the dry seat of his car, hands fumbling ungracefully with his keys as he shakily pushed them into the ignition and turning it until the car came to life. He put his hand over a dial, cranking up the heat in the car, both to warm the engine and himself. Jane leaned back, letting his darkened hair plaster behind himself on the headrest.

He placed his hand down in the center of the car, pushing it into drive and letting go of the brake. The Lexus slid back onto the road, moving towards California. He had a long way to go, and he was going to take it until he was back in Sacramento. He knew what would happen once he arrived, he would see everyone he had left behind-especially his Lisbon. He could just picture her now, tears flowing down her cheeks as she would run to him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close to her.

He would pull away from her, cupping her face in his hands once more treating her like she was made of only glass. He would kiss her, softly, drawing it out. He would lean his forehead against hers, tell her those three simple words that could change everything. She would cry, tears of joy would form into her eyes. She would clutch tightly onto him, afraid to let go. He wouldn't ever tear himself away from her.

Not ever again.

He would then make love to her, show her how much she meant to him. It would be slow and passionate, honouring her body in every way imaginable. He would place soft, lingering kisses all over her body, watching her toes curl up and throw her head back into the pillow. He would love her all night and for all eternity. Their sounds would be their own musical score needed for that night, all the whispered 'I love yous' and sweet nothings would be uttered that night. The kissing and the reactions, their names uttered out in such adoration and love…

He would love her.

_After I have traveled so far_

_We'd set the fire to the third bar_

_We'd share each other like an island_

_Until exhausted, close our eyelids_

_And dreaming pick up_

_From the last place we left off_

_Your soft skin is weeping_

_A joy you can't keep it_

**Am I evil?**

**Review?**


	7. Part Seven

**Disclaimer: If I owned the show, I wouldn't run out of gas on the side of the road.**

**Set the Fire to the Third Bar**

Lisbon pushed her hands into her jacket pockets, fingers curling on the insides in hope to pull the jacket closer to her body. One finger coiled around the warm keys to her car, looping around the holder. She shut her eyes, tossed her head back and breathed out the warm breath turning the cold air into mist. She opened her eyes slowly and reached back out of the pocket, clutching her keys in her hand. Her hand encased the keys, trying to keep the warmth inside her palm.

Her arm shook; her knuckles began to turn white. She felt her body temperature drop as her cheeks flushed bright pink, showing in contrast to her pale complexion. On instinct, she reached out and tugged on her car door handle, sighing to herself, she fiddled with finding the correct key before jamming it in the lock, turning it appropriately, and hearing her car unlock. She opened the door, once more cringing at the ceremonial creaking sound it emitted. Sliding into her car, she remembered that she had left her brief case upstairs in her office.

Oh to hell with it.

She was tired; it had been one hell of a day and not to mention that it was cold outside. Shaking her head and deciding she would get it tomorrow morning, she stuck the keys into the ignition, started the engine and put her hand on the dial to turn up the heat. Then she looked over her shoulder and began to back the car slowly out of the parking space. She chewed on her lips slightly, fingers not clawing slightly at the material of the other passenger seat next to her. Once she was satisfied, she put the car in drive and moved away from her space, waving good-bye to her rookie agent, Grace Van Pelt, who also was heading home for the evening.

She drove silently, not in any particular hurry. Sure she had a few fists waved in her direction, she returned them all with a glare, really, it wasn't her fault that she drove safely.

Her fingers ran across the steering wheel, hands feeling the vibration of the car underneath her hands. She smiled slightly, the very thought of going home made her heart beat faster. The thought of sitting on her recliner and eating some Ben & Jerry's sounded even better-possibly falling asleep.

The streetlights licked over her car, reflecting against the windows and body of the car. She felt the lights flash into her eyes, causing her to squint in only a small amount. All of a sudden, a Lexus pulled in front of her, driving insanely fast. The man inside seemed as if he had really wanted to go somewhere. She hoped that some form of law enforcement would pull him over, question him in every way possible, then charge him fully.

_The twelve-year-old girl looked up from the porch steps she sat upon. Her green eyes filled with pain and sorrow, anyone could see that. A police officer shut the door to his cruiser and walked up the walkway, feet hitting against the cement ground, deafening to her ears-making her remember the sound forever._

_He stopped in front of her, placing his hands on his hips and looked down on her, "Where's your father?" she didn't want to say it. Everything was still fresh in her mind. Just two days ago her mother had died due to a drunk driver. After that, her father responded full of shock and anger. He had demanded who had done it, expressing his desire to speak with the man responsible. Every officer had denied this desire, shutting him down._

_All this had infuriated her father, making him angry-stressed. She had watched him drink most of the Whiskey-more than she had ever seen him drink. She watched him while sitting on the top step, across the hall from her bedroom. She had her elbow on her knee, resting her chin on her knuckles. Her father soon became haggard before falling into a deep sleep, the bottle falling from his limp hands. _

_If only she had known this would become a regular occurrence in her life later on-she might have said something._

"_Where's your father?" the officer asked more irritably, less patient._

_She looked up at him, green eyes flashing, and tears slowly building up._

_She refused to show them to a complete stranger. _

"_He's asleep," her voice remained soft, simple. She knew if she were to wake her father, she could tell there would be consequences to that. She wasn't sure if this was a premonition, but something told her this was the easiest part of life without her mother._

_The officer nodded and walked past her, rapping on the screen door loudly. She had jumped up, bare feet scrambling against the wooden steps. The officer watched her, watched her fearful eyes, "He's asleep," she repeated, a bit more force placed in her voice, "He's been up all night," partly it was true. He drank all night._

"_I need to speak with him," she twisted the handle, moving inside the house. She gestured for the officer to wait outside the house for her. He had nodded to her, mumbling something about not having time for this. _

_She thought he could use a better attitude. _

_She never saw that officer again. Waking her father had been a bad idea, a new bruise and a bloody nose showed this. She had sent one of her brothers to go speak with him as she cleaned the blood off her hands. _

_It was only the mere beginning._

Tears built up in her eyes, threatening to fall. She bit her lip, rolling the plumper flesh between her teeth. She blinked, attempting to keep the tears at bay. The man wasn't driving badly…just erratically. Still she did not understand why someone must drive so fast, if everyone abided by the law, there would be a lot less vehicular deaths, possibly saving her mother and changing the entire course of her life. Who knows, she might have actually gotten married and had an actual family instead of being fully devoted to her job. Everything in her life would be different; she would maintain a different routine.

She would be happier.

She turned the wheel to the left, effectively pulling in front of her apartment building. She slowed the Camry down, heading towards her usual parking space. Everything seemed within the ordinary, arriving home late in the evening, usual parking space vacated, most lights off, telling her people were sleeping. Pulling in, she wasted no time putting the vehicle in park before pulling the keys out of the ignition. She undid her seatbelt and reached over, pushing her door open. One foot down on the pavement, then the other joining in. She stood up to her full height and placed her hand on the door, slamming it shut. The sound echoed through the complex and for once in her life, she was unaffected.

Lisbon walked past her mailbox; she had already lost all hope that he would ever write to her ever again. She knew her mail was piling up by now; she already has had a few notices that she was to go by the post office to pick up a crate full. She would use the excuse that she never had time due to a hectic job; it had only been a few weeks since she last checked picked it up.

Slowly she walked up each step, her feet hitting the wooden steps, not listening to the horrific noises they were to make. Her eyelids drooped; the continuous feeling of being tired hit her harder at this very moment. All she wanted to do was lie down in her bed and fall asleep, forget about the hard week-the hard case. Once she reached her floor, she reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and fumbled with her keys. Jamming them in the door, she stepped in.

Tossing the keys onto the kitchen table, allowing them to slide right off without much hesitation, her body turned towards the door as she began to push it closed. Something caught her eye. In the overhead light, she noticed a piece of paper-something that appeared to be torn off a simple white notepad. Furrowing her brow, she walked slowly, almost admonishing herself for doing so. She bent down and picked it up with two of her fingers, not particularly caring that she wrinkled it. Standing up to her full height, she flipped it over, reading the back of it.

Her breath caught in her throat.

_Teresa-_

_I still love you very much. I hope to see you soon._

_Love, Patrick_

He was here in Sacramento…the very question was, where was he exactly? How much had he changed over the year since she had seen him last? But most of all, how would she react to seeing his face?

Angry?

Happy?

_Love?_

She encased the paper in her fist, hearing the paper crinkle as a protest, almost asking her not to crush it. Tears were threatening to slip down her face. Flashes of his face came into her mind, causing her heart to beat wildly. She wanted him back into her life, she yearned for him. His absence only made her realize her true love for him. She already knew he loved her, but she wanted him to actually say it to her.

She shut the door closed, hearing it click before she locked it, effectively keeping anyone unwanted out of her home. She pulled the note out of her hand, flattening it out. Her lip quivered, her breath hitched in her throat. She pulled the note to her chest and backed up until she hit the wall. A low thud resonated through her head as she slowly slid to the ground. Once hitting the tiled floor, she bent her knees up, resting her head on top of them. She let herself cry-let the emotions that made her feel vulnerable and weak come out of her very being. She wrapped her arms around her knees, keeping them closer to her. A sob wracked through her body, tears flowed down her cheeks. For seemingly the first time in a long time, she felt herself breakdown completely. She needed him-wanted him. She wished her was here to comfort her, whisper sweet nothings into her ear and make her blush. Her body jerked, hiccupping uncontrollably. She squeezed her knees tighter to her chest, burrowing her head unknowingly farther. Her shoulders squared forward, keeping her almost into a protective ball. A soft whimper escaped her lips, something she had not felt herself do in a long time. She lifted her head up, looking around the dark lit room. Sniffling, she reached up and wiped the side of her face with the sleeve of her jacket, not really caring what the salt would do with the fabric.

She ignored hearing a sound of movement in her apartment. The blood was pounding in her ears and her diaphragm began to hurt after all the hiccupping. She felt herself grow more tired than before, feeling that she could fall asleep where she sat on her floor. She felt her feet slide in front of her; she stubbornly pulled them back up to her body, keeping them close to her. She whimpered again as another sob moved through her body. She had gotten to the point where she felt ultimately empty…it was not the first time that she felt the very essence of her life become drained from her body.

Then a thought crossed her-How dare he! He walks out of her life then expects her to throw herself into his arms once he comes back to Sacramento! How dare he think he could slowly 'starve herself' of his very being to the point where she would confess her undying love for him.

This was all some little plan he had, wasn't it?

She pulled her head back up, thumping it against the wall. She hiccupped before her mouth contorted into a smile. She almost shut her eyes, allowing the tears to blur her vision. She laughed, letting it move throughout the apartment. Her hands moved from her knees and onto the floor beside her. Her head lolled to the side, still a smile on her face.

"Jane you son of a bitch," then she felt her heartstrings tug. The sudden feeling of sadness overtaking her once more. She opened her eyes then wrapped her arms around her knees once more, staring off into space, "Why did you leave?" she moved her head to rest on her knees, keeping herself into the tight ball once more.

"Because I hurt you," she felt a warm hand encase around hers as a beautifully harmonic voice swirled around her ears. She stiffened, lifting her head up slowly. Everything was blurry.

Her heart began to beat inside her chest as she blinked frantically, hoping to rid herself of the tears. The warm hand squeezed hers as her vision finally focused in front of her on the man she had once loathed all those years ago. He had changed though, slight stubble placed strategically over his features, giving him the very rugged look that could make any woman swoon.

"Pa-trick?" her voice hitched as she loosened up, allowing herself to become less tense.

Slowly he stood up, his breathing and the sound of his clothes the only thing she heard. He gently pulled her up with him. Their breathing was the only thing that was heard. The only thing she felt was the heat radiating off him as his hand held hers and her heart thumping wildly inside her chest.

His hand moved up, brushing over her cheek before sliding over her lips, "I'm here," she noticed tears forming in his eyes, "I'm here," he repeated, pulling her flush against his body. Her head was resting on his chest, his warm arms wrapped around her body, keeping her safe. He nuzzled her hair, breathing her in.

She pushed him away slightly, until she could look directly into his face. Nervously gazing up into his eyes, he watched her every move. She leaned up, wrapping a hand around his chin. As she was about to press her lips to his, she recoiled, biting her lip. Their breathing became a mixture, slowly mingling together. His eyelids slid shut a bit as he leaned down, beckoning her lips into a sweet kiss. She felt him move one hand from her waist, brushing her hair past her shoulder, slowly caressing the smooth skin of her neck. She shuddered, breaking the kiss slightly and head bowing. Her head moved back up as she met his half-lidded gaze. Once more, she caught his lips in her own. The kiss was soft, barely touching her lips. She could hardly feel them at all. She whimpered, fingers fisting in his shirt. His hands slid down to her hips, pulling her shirt out of her pants and sliding his hands up her back. She pressed her lips more forceful against his, wanting to unleash all the pain that he had caused her in the past year. Her breath hitched in her throat as she gasped when he finger ghosted over her belly button. Her head moved into the crook of his neck, her breathing barely tickling his neck.

"I love you," she spoke softly, against his neck, "God I love you so much."

He pulled her from the crook of his neck, gazing down at her, tears of joy sliding down his cheeks. He reached down, pressing his lips against hers, ultimately sweetly. They drew it out for as long as they could, letting each other's mouths move in synch.

"I love you," she faltered, allowing her hands to clutch onto him even tighter. She had finally heard him say it. She let her breath hitch in her throat once more as she looked up at him.

Tonight would be a night they would remember until they were dust. It would be one of those things they would never tell another about. It was between them, the love for each other should only ever between them. The undying love with each other could never be shared nor could it ever be measured. They would love each other forever.

Hours later, they lay in bed, bodies entwined, not bothering to cover each other up. His body kept her warm, melded into her permanently. He would never leave her side once more, he now fully devoted himself to her. The soft sound of her breathing told him she was asleep, refusing to wake. He listened to her breathing, his own personal love song, no other recorded song could ever compare to this one. T

The moonlight streaming through the blinds in her room hitting their bodies, accenting every contour of each other's body. He had refused sleep to watch the sun rise, how it would dance over their bodies, making everything appear to be aflame. It would imprint itself forever into his mind, something he would think about if he were not around her. He tightened his grip on her, afraid that if he were to let her go, he would never see her again. She was his now, the love of his life, the one he chose. He would honour her forever.

_I'm miles from where you are_

_I lay down on the cold ground_

_And I pray that something picks me up_

_And sets me down in your warm arms_

**I could end it this way, but I might make one more part after this. I would have updated this last night…but I had writer's block…and fell asleep for a few hours. I would probably write up another chapter for my other story first…though.**

**Reviews are like chocolate…enough said. **


	8. Epilogue

**MK-No problem! Thank you for reading and reviewing :]**

**JLluv-Thank you so much for taking the time to read, very much appreciated :]**

**Disclaimer: ..**

**Set the Fire to the Third Bar-Epilogue **

When he had first walked into the bullpen, fingers laced with the senior agent's, the team he had once left stopped everything. Van Pelt stopped reading her magazine; she had turned to look over her shoulder. Her hazel eyes grew larger, she gasped as she threw the rolling desk chair backwards. Tentatively she walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him. Lisbon had let go of him so he could hug the rookie in return.

"I knew you would come back," she had whispered, tears bubbling into her eyes.

Rigsby had towered over his love. Attempting to keep a straight face towards the man who had left their beloved boss out of the blue. When Van Pelt had pulled away, Rigsby's eyes had softened and he found himself giving Jane an awkward man-hug. He heard Van Pelt giggle slightly, covering her mouth. Lisbon had been fighting a smile, the corners of her mouth subtly turning upwards.

Then there was Cho, the stern second-in-command stood behind his desk, fingers barely touching over the surface. He nodded towards Jane, moving towards the former consultant. He had extended a hand, grasping onto the consultant's tightly. He shook it firmly, keeping eye contact with his former co-worker.

"It's good to have to back."

Jane nodded in return, "Thank you Cho, it's great to be back," he had pulled away, eyes wandering over the same bullpen he had left all that time ago…

They spent hours afterwards, catching up on what they had missed. Rigsby and Van Pelt were engaged to be married; it was only a matter of months before it would all happen. He could tell the rookie was nervous about it all, constantly fidgeting with the hem of her cotton button-down blouse.

About a month later, things were somewhat returning to normal. A few new things became known, changing all their lives slowly. Cho had continued to date Elise, the young lawyer he had slowly become to love-sadly both decided they were not ready to marry. Van Pelt and Rigsby had continued wedding preparations; Jane had offered his help along the way.

And of course…Jane's relationship with Lisbon has grown. Which is what brings him at where he is now. Normally he would find himself sitting back on her recliner, her resting between his legs, head resting on his chest. Both would usually watch an old black and white movie, classics. This night was almost no different. Between her legs lay a half-empty carton of Ben & Jerry's, his spoon left to rest on the side, her spoon in her hand, cold, melted ice cream running down her hand.

He would always tease her for being so messy when it came to eating her favourite ice cream, Low-fat chocolate fudge brownie, but tonight was a different night. It was his goal to make her get all messy and such, for the desert to run down her hands as it slowly heated with the constant friction of spoons and the heat of the room. Usually it would to see her pout, so he could wrap his arms around her and kiss her at the tip of the nose then move down to capture her lips in his.

Shaking her head, she reached out towards the wooden end table for a napkin. Without looking, her hand patted around in search for the paper, fingers barely ghosting over the recliner's fabric, coating it with its stickiness. Jane decided to make a mental note that she was at fault there. Chuckling to himself, he wrapped his arm around her wrist and guided her hand over the napkin, resting her hand on top of it and bunching a few up in her hands.

But something felt odd.

Within the napkin was something hard, something 'O' shaped. Furrowing her brow, she held the napkin close to her, opening her hand and looking at it steadily. Slowly she peeled the paper away, carefully, delicately. Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw what it was as it slid onto her hand, a soft little sound it made once it connected with her palm.

She leaned forward off Jane's chest, using her index finger to move it around in her palm. It was a ring. An engagement ring. She turned to look over her shoulder at Jane, who stared at her intently. He shifted his weight, reaching a hand out to brush her hair from her face. His eyes moved down to the ring, making her follow his eyes. The ring was made of silver gold, small diamonds wrapping around the band with spectacular crystal-like diamonds framing the main attraction. Her breath hitched in her throat once more, feeling herself falter almost immediately. She could not form any words, did not know what to say. Except one thing.

"This is my mother's ring, it belonged to her mother, and then hers," she looked over her shoulder at him in disbelief, "How did you get this?" he shrugged his shoulders.

"Your brother gave it to me."

"Which one?"

"The one living in Chicago," she already knew which brother. His name is Gabriel, he always wants to be sure that his older sister is all right at all times. But still, why had he not given it to his wife? Lisbon was never certain when she would marry, much less to Patrick Jane-but everything so far has changed in both their lives, making the thought possible.

"Gabe," she barely whispered, rolling the ring between her thumb and index finger. She nearly faltered when she felt a larger, rougher hand wrap around her hand, pressing the ring down into her palm.

"Marry me," his breath tickled her ear, barely brushing against it. She felt him press his lips into the back of her head, heard him breathe her. Jane pressed a soft, long kiss behind her ear, "Please," his harmonic voice made her heart repeatedly slam against her chest.

It was all out of the blue. Him asking her to marry him…she knew she loved him entirely-he felt the same way. But the very thought of marriage-of a commitment-scared her. Her breathing became deeper as her eyes remained fixated on his hand covering hers. Why so soon? He had only been back for about a month-they hardly went out. Usually they would have a small meal together at her table-marks embedded into the fine wood because of her constant throwing of the keys. Only once had they ever found themselves tangled together in bed, bare of everything without any worries to plague them. She had gotten used to the sweet touches, him nuzzling her, whispering sweet nothings into her ears as she attempted sleep.

She loved him implicitly.

Then why has she not said 'yes'?

"Teresa?" his voice sounded nervous, hesitant. He was pulling her hair behind her shoulder, giving him a slightly clearer path of vision to her face. He had not wanted to rush her, it was something life-changing and he knew this.

"Yes."

It was soft and chaste. It was all that mattered.

She had slowly turned in her seat to look at him. Wordlessly, she slipped the ring into his palm, allowing him to place it delicately onto her finger. Their eyes never left each other, neither faltered. She had leaned closer to him, he had moved closer to her. They together closed the distance between each other, lips meeting, only thoughts of love entering each other's minds. He had pulled her body impossibly closer to his, wrapping an arm around her body, allowing her hands to wrap around his neck, resting at the nape. Only the sounds of their kissing could be heard, the rustling of clothes.

The whispered affections.

Months later it came closer to Van Pelt and Rigbsy's wedding, the two lovers frantically scrambling to get everything done in time. Lisbon had helped Van Pelt in preparations-the two had wanted to get married in a church, much to Jane's dismay. Luckily he had made no such remarks-it was supposed to be one of the happiest days of their lives, he would not spoil it.

During the wedding, Jane had slipped his hand into his fiancé's, carefully cradling her hand in his. She had slowly turned to look at him, the smoky eye look gracefully pointing out the beauty of her eyes to him. Her lips parted slightly, he fought the urge to lean over and kiss her. In the reception, he had danced with her, flitting around the room, his arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her body close to his. She kept her head pressed against his chest, hands entwined together. He hummed along the music, almost rocking her to sleep.

After the wedding, they found each other walking to his Lexus, her hands clutching onto each shoe. Feet padding against the concrete, becoming rougher at the texture of the street beneath them. Both laughing and smiling-remembering Rigsby stuffing the cake into his new wife's mouth…watching her reaction…plus Cho's smirk.

Everything seemed so perfect right now. The two of them-living without a care or worry in the world. They could do anything they had wanted to do now; nothing could hold them back to do what the desire most. They were only bound by their love, no contract. Truth to be told, she did not want to get married. Having his love was enough.

He reached over, grasping her wrist into his hand and pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles. She giggled slightly, watching his nose wrinkle up in mock disgust as he pretended to notice the smell of her shoes near to his face. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her small body close to his. Jane cupped her face in his hand, pressing his lips softly onto hers. She had responded to him warmly, allowing the warmth spread throughout her body, causing her to stand up on her toes.

"I love you," he whispered.

Two weeks later he surprised her, bringing a Golden Retriever puppy home. She was sitting back on her couch, a cup of tea in hand, and her laptop strategically balanced on her knee. Just as she had begun to lift the hot beverage to her lips, the door opened and a small little ball of blond fur ran into the room, panting excitedly. She had gasped, almost letting her computer fall before having to catch it. She reached forward, setting the cup down on a leadership magazine, reveling in the feeling of a small puppy licking at her flesh.

"Hi, who are you," she bent over, picking up the small, squirmy animal to place him on her lap. She frowned, no tags-only a collar with a note wedged between his neck and the leather, "Who is this from?" she voiced, plucking it out and unfolding it, puling at it in hopes to undo the many creases. Black Sharpie adorned the paper, bleeding through the thin white paper.

_Can we live here?_

Below it showed one of the most beautiful houses she had ever seen in her entire life. A large two story-completely made out of red brick. White shudders framing every window, giving it a wonderful, welcoming feeling. Two chimneys stuck out at either side of the house, enhancing its shear beauty. The house itself was surrounded by a large green lawn, trees winding around the house in synch with each other.

"So, will you?" her eyes snapped up, seeing Jane stand before her, the pup weaving in and out of between his legs.

"B-but the puppy can't stay here!"

"Well yes, that's why we're moving!" his voice came out excited and serious at the same time. Clearly he wanted to live here-it was different for the both of them…located in the Suburbs of Sacramento instead of downtown-as she was used to.

"Patrick…"

"I already bought it."

She had no idea what to say, she had held the paper in her hands, ignoring the pup's whines. Obviously he had just spent good money on…them? She was happy to live in her apartment, but living in a house with Jane made things much more…permanent. She sort of liked it like that, they had already been living with each other since his return and she would never trade the small moments she has shared with him.

"Can I see it?" wordlessly, he motioned for her to get up from her seat. She followed him, her hand reaching out for his. He took it, squeezing her hand and leaning down to pick up the puppy in his other free arm.

And he took her to it; allowed her to walk around the premises, marvel at its shear size and beauty. He had handed her a set of house keys, telling her to go inside. It was just as beautiful inside as it was outside. Spacious was exactly what it was-it was too big for them and the puppy, which meant he wanted something more…

"Marry me," her head snapped over her shoulder, gazing at the man leaning against the doorway, "Soon."

Breathlessly, she replied, "Okay…"

And it did happen soon. Within three months, Teresa Lisbon became Teresa Jane. She had kept her maiden name only for work purposes-once she had walked off CBI HQ grounds, she was Mrs. Patrick Jane once more. When they had announced their engagement, the team had stared them in belief-except Cho. Apparently he had known they had 'feelings' for a long time. Figures.

She had been walked down the aisle by Minelli, the man she had grown to love as a father. He had told her how proud he was, out of his marriage; he had never once had a child. To him, Lisbon seemed as if she were meant to be that daughter-she filled that small hole. He knew she would be in good hands-therefore he walked her down the aisle to her future husband.

Tears of joy were shed, light kisses, soft caresses. The soft beat of music playing as bodies swayed to the music. True love vibrated from the entire room-so many people were loved, so many felt it from the couple embracing on the dance floor.

He had picked her up, much to her protests-which later had turned to a large smile placed over her features. He carried her to his specially made Citroën, white lettering saying 'Just Married' written on the back window, telling the entire world that this couple is together until death is to draw them apart. They were okay with that declaration-it was a declaration of undying love.

That night, he loved her so sweetly. He had kept their bodies closely melded together, allowing himself to love her to her entirety. He would brush the dark locks from her face, lean down and press a soft kiss on her lips. His hands would explore every inch of her; revel in the way she felt against him. He would only hear her sounds, urging him on. The sheets would ruffle beneath him, her smooth leg would brush against his, everything seemed so delicate. She would nuzzle against him; let her breath tickle his chest. He would hold onto her body tighter, refusing to ever let go of the woman in his arms. Their hands laced together, pressing between their bodies near their chests, as they were to make love.

"I love you," they would utter so frequently that night.

A month later he would shock her once more. They were lying in bed, she clutched a book in her hands, fingers barely tracing over the crisp pages. She hummed lightly in bed, in shear delight as his fingers ran up and down her thigh, pushing up under his sky blue button down she was wearing. He had really grown attached to seeing her dressed like this.

He had leaned over, pressed a soft kiss on the side of her neck, beckoning her to turn towards him, catching his lips in her own. They drew out a soft, delicate kiss. He held her in his arms longer than he had meant to in the first place. He pulled away, watching love, adoration, and slight confusion flicker across her features.

"Okay, what brought that on?" she smiled, closing her book and plopping it down on her end table.

He propped his head up on his hand, his eyes never leaving hers, "Let's have a baby," she hadn't said anything. Her eyes remained fixated on his. Her mouth parted slightly, she had wanted to shake her head-deny it. Truth to be told, she did want a family.

She pulled away from him, keeping a few inches away from him, "Patrick…"

"Teresa, I know you want a baby, I see it every time we walk past that aisle at the store…" she looked down at the sheets, finding something more interesting to focus on, "Look at me," he gripped her chin, tilting her face up towards him.

"Don't you think it's a little early to have a child?"

He chuckled, "Teresa, I'm forty and counting, sure you're younger than I just so happen to be, but it would not exactly hurt anything," he shrugged his shoulder, trying to make a valid point. He saw her shift, her shoulders moving upward, his shirt sliding down her creamy shoulder.

"I need some time to think about it."

"You will say yes…"

She had just shaken her head, reached over to the lamp, and clicked it off. She had plopped down against the pillows, allowing sleep to begin to overtake her. Her husband had decided he would rather continue to trace patterns over her stomach, not making anything easier. Lisbon had squeezed her eyes shut, bit into her bottom lip, and slipped her arm underneath her pillow to bring her head closer. His hand stopped, fingers moving to barely trace over her belly button.

"Yes."

Damn that man.

She could practically hear him rejoicing.

He shifted closer to her body, pulling her into him. His arms wrapped around her body securely, the small smile adorning her face as she breathed in his scent. He placed his head on top of hers, sighing in relief. Their legs soon became entangled as her hand slipped underneath the shirt, entwining with his over her belly. Warmth filled her entire body…Happiness…Completeness.

Well, now she felt more comfortable about showing him that little white stick with the little smilie face...

Then she had miscarried that baby, then the second. She had begun to lose hope, he had stuck by her. There had been so many times when she felt as if she were letting him down, weighing him down in with her 'uselessness'. The pain kept on getting stronger, she felt like she was a failure. Van Pelt and Rigsby had their first child-a son named Austin Rigsby, the two seemed so happy with their little creation, marveling over their son, as he would sleep.

Finally, she had the baby they had dreamed about. It was hard, though, she had constantly been on bed rest, she was almost always away at appointments. She could not control her emotions any longer. One minute she would be happy, then another, she would cry uncontrollably-thinking she would be a failure. Then after sixteen hours of labour, Melanie Katherine Jane was born. Healthy, yet small.

Now, it has been two years since then. Little Melanie was growing fast, her light brown curls would bounce up and down on her head; her rosy cheeks would contrast greatly against her fair skin. She would laugh she would smile…she would leave her parents undoubtly proud. She was happy, even happier at the thought of having a new baby 'sister' as she was so determined.

Yes, it was their second child coming.

Lisbon had found herself watching Melanie run around with Scott, their Golden Retriever. She was sitting on the swinging bench, both hands ankles crossed, hands folded over her belly. The air crisp and wonderful, bringing out the energy in her unborn child. Movement caught her eye as her blond husband maneuvered around the swing, falling back with a force knocking them backwards. She smiled as they swung, her lips meeting his.

Then a thought occurred to her.

"Patrick?"

"Mhm, yes?"

"What ever did happen with that taxi in New York?"

_I'm miles from where you are_

_I lay down on the cold ground_

_I pray that something picks me up_

_And sets me down in your warm arms…_

**~The End~**


End file.
